Daybreak
by Team Damon
Summary: On the other side of the world, safe and sound within the most secure borders on earth, Bucky was awake and alive and no longer a danger to himself or others. And within the next 24 hours, Steve would be there with him. He couldn't wait. This is now a 6 part story featuring Stucky in Wakanda, all the way to Infinity War.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: *waves nervously* So this is quite obviously a departure from my usual fare lol, and a good amount of you lovely folks who follow me are probably wondering where the heck this even came from, and my answer is... I'm not totally sure? Lol. See, in the course of two years I've gone from completely anti-Stucky to kinda sorta just accepting it to now having a genuine appreciation for the ship, but I'm horridly picky about what I will and won't read. And I guess this fic came about because it's what I'd like to read myself but I haven't really found anything that fits what I had in mind, so I decided to just do the thing and write it myself. I don't really plan on writing anymore Stucky after this but I won't say never either, so for now I just hope some of you wonderful readers like this and enjoy it :) if not, at least I got it out of my system. Lol :D thank you guys in advance for reading, and thank you to midnightwings96 for reading it over and never discouraging me from writing anything that happens to strike my fancy out of nowhere :D please review and let me know what you guys think! *goes back into nervous hiding***

The Quinjet touched down in a small, abandoned field outside of Kasimov, Russia, away from prying eyes and even from any residents for at least twenty miles. It was the dead of night at the end of a very long, _long_ , terrible day, and both of the aircraft's occupants were bloody and bruised and quite literally beat to hell.

Powering down the aircraft and drawing in a breath that was too deep and made his aching ribs hurt worse than they already were, Steve unbuckled himself from his seat and looked behind him. As soon as he did, that ache within only grew exponentially worse.

Bucky wasn't sleeping. That was too gentle of a word for his current state. He was unconscious and slumped in his own seat, only buckled in because Steve had managed to fasten all the restraints before they took off, and he was pale and bloody and hurt and...

Steve swallowed hard and looked away for a moment, trying to mentally curb the nausea rolling through his stomach. Once they'd left the old Hydra base in Siberia and gotten into the Quinjet, Bucky had stared at what was left of his metal arm until Steve had forced him to stop. The longer that he looked at it, the paler his skin grew and the darker and further away his eyes became, and Steve's heart had lurched in ways that inspired both rage and immeasurable sadness in his very bones.

Then Bucky had babbled something half in English and half in a language Steve wasn't even sure of, and he fell unconscious only a few moments later after breathing out the coordinates to a safe house. Steve didn't know what he had gone through all those years ago after he fell - though he could imagine, and he did, far more than was healthy - but he could only assume how having his left arm ripped off again, even an artificial one this time, was uniquely and sickeningly horrifying. He was probably reliving the whole entire original experience, not to mention how much pain he must have been in.

Steve tried to wake him up, but he was still out cold. Not having the heart to force the issue, Steve simply pulled him out of the chair and got him to his feet, then supported his mostly dead weight as he started walking them out. Bucky woke up enough to walk on his own a little bit, but they both stayed silent as they left the aircraft and made their way to the safe house's front door.

Steve wondered if Bucky had safe houses all over the world from his Winter Soldier days. The thought wasn't a reassuring one, but if it was true, at least it was coming in handy now. They wouldn't be able to stay here for long, but they should at least be able to get cleaned up and patched up and sleep long enough to function the next day.

It was a small and old house, somewhat dilapidated and the sort of forgotten-looking residence that wouldn't make anyone think twice. That was the point, of course, and when they walked across a creaky, splintering wooden front deck to the front door, they walked inside to one of the dustiest and most depressingly empty houses he'd ever seen in the current century.

But it seemed fitting, somehow, after what they'd both just endured. After all, Bucky wasn't the only wanted fugitive anymore. Steve was now a wanted international criminal too, though that was the farthest thing from his mind as the door swung shut behind them and Steve looked around the dark house in mild confusion.

"Remember where the bathroom is?" Steve muttered dryly.

Bucky, leaning on Steve's side, opened his eyes blearily and replied, "Upstairs."

Of course. He should have figured even that wouldn't be easy.

Together, the two of them made their way upstairs as slowly as two men of their actual chronological ages might have, one step at a time. Steve was exhausted himself and in pain in quite a few places but he barely registered it, focusing everything on keeping Bucky going and getting him to where they needed to go.

The first door that they encountered in the tiny, musty-smelling hallway was one that opened to the sole bedroom in the whole place. Steve decided to steer them there first, walking Bucky inside and flipping on the light, letting him go when Bucky shifted away to lean against the doorway.

Steve looked at Bucky and clenched his jaw at what he saw. His eyes were closed again, breathing labored and body slumped against the wall, but he only spent a few seconds like that before he opened his eyes and then determinedly, slowly, made his way to the queen sized bed at the room's center.

Bucky sat down with a small, pained groan on the edge of the bed, furrowing his brows and glancing at what was left of his left arm again. The blast that had taken the limb off had been so imprecise and crude and the evidence was in the mess of mangled wires and metal that was left behind. Steve's mind was racing, wanting to get that stump covered so Bucky _couldn't_ look at it, wanting to get him cleaned up, get him some water and some kind of food, but he couldn't do all those things at once. He had to prioritize, and in the end he decided to find them both clothes to change into first.

The small dresser in the room across from the bed ended up containing the basic essentials for them both, as Steve soon found out. He had no idea if the clothes had ever been worn or even what decade they were from, but they would work for the time being. He set down a white t-shirt and dark blue pants next to Bucky and asked as Bucky rubbed his right hand over his left shoulder, "Do you... do you want to get cleaned up first, or... maybe need some help with... that?"

Bucky briefly glanced up at him before shaking his head and dropping his hand. "No. I can manage." He paused. "I think."

Steve sighed and gave his right shoulder a small, comforting pat. "Okay. I'll go see what I can find in the bathroom. Let me know if you need anything."

Bucky nodded absently, eyeing the clothes with a clear but subtle dread in his eyes. Steve wished he'd just accept his help, but he also knew better than to smother him or make him feel as if he _needed_ help. He'd always been like that, even back when they were kids, and Bucky probably needed right now more than ever to not feel as if his independence had been compromised.

So Steve stepped away and retreated to the tiny, barely-functioning bathroom across the hall. By some miracle the hot water worked, so Steve washed off his face and his hands as best as he could before peeling himself out of his uniform and putting on the old clothes, which were a size or two too small but got the job done. Then he located the first aid kit under the sink, and he was on his way out when he caught his reflection in the mirror and paused to stare at the mystery looking back at him.

He wasn't sure if he'd ever felt so confused and so sure of himself at the same time. He didn't regret a single action that he'd taken since the start of this whole mess, from getting to Bucky before the authorities did in Romania to dropping the shield only hours earlier and giving up his mantle for the sake of something - or rather someone - who meant even more to him than _Captain America_ ever had. But his actions had also led them both here and caused Bucky's injuries, and Steve had no idea what all of these events meant for the future. Especially Bucky's future.

A quiet groan of pain from the bedroom broke Steve's train of thought, and he quickly caught himself and left the bathroom, armed with supplies. When he walked back into the bedroom, he found Bucky dressed and sagging a little, all of that effort clearly taking what little strength he had left right out of him. The short sleeve of the t-shirt he wore covered what was left of his metal arm, so he at least couldn't stare at it anymore. He looked up when Steve walked back inside, eyeing the first aid kit and letting out a low sigh but not protesting when Steve sat next to him and handed him a warm, damp cloth to wipe the dried blood off his face.

Bucky's makeshift uniform laid at the floor near his feet, bloody and in dire need of a wash that it wasn't gonna get any time soon. Steve watched him warily as he cleaned off his face, the cloth almost entirely pink with blood once he was done with it, and then Steve held up a few alcohol swabs and said sympathetically, "I gotta... it's gonna hurt, but..."

"Just get it over with," Bucky grumbled, so that was what Steve did. Knowing that Bucky would heal almost as fast as he would himself, he made quick work of cleaning all the visible cuts on Bucky's face and in his hairline - the worst might have been his nose, courtesy of Tony's iron boot when Bucky had been laying there defenseless - and Bucky stayed quiet and strong through it all.

He even cracked a small joke as Steve put a small bandage just over his right brow, forcing a tiny, pained grin as he said, "Feels kinda like I should be the one patching you up. Always used to be."

Steve paused and asked, "You remember that?"

Bucky glanced down at the floor and muttered, "I remember _everything_ , Steve."

"So you really were lying to me back in Romania," Steve noted, drawing away and setting the first aid kit aside for the time being. He needed some attention himself but it could wait.

"Wasn't exactly expecting to come home and find you there," Bucky said in defense of himself. Then he paused and added, "Glad I did, though."

"I don't know," Steve sighed, leaning his elbows on his knees and staring forward at nothing in particular. "You might have been better off without me. Might have gotten away faster. Avoided all of this."

"You know I wouldn't have," Bucky replied. "Don't think there was any avoiding any of this."

And what a disheartening idea that was. But Steve still wasn't sure. "Tony, after they brought you in... he offered me a deal. I sign the Accords, he gets you transferred to the States to a psych facility instead of prison. I was gonna sign, I was, but then I found out he had Wanda locked in her room at the compound and I just... I couldn't."

"Wouldn't have mattered if you signed anyway," Bucky noted somewhat miserably. "Not with what happened after."

Steve nodded. Zemo triggering Bucky changed everything. It set the course of events on autopilot and stayed stuck that way, to where Steve felt powerless almost the entire time and like he was just a passenger to it all, unfolding like a particularly horrible nightmare.

"I'm sorry," Bucky said quietly and unexpectedly, voice strained.

Steve turned and looked at him in surprise. "For _what_?"

"Everything," Bucky said, still not looking him in the eye. "I'm the reason all of this happened. Why your friends are in prison. Why Stark... all of it."

"No," Steve shook his head, watching Bucky's eyes get a little glassy and a little darker. "No you're not. Zemo did all of this. He played us all. Played on the worst parts of us that he possibly could have."

Bucky gave a small, seemingly careless shrug. "All he had to do was show Stark the video. Can't blame him for reacting like he did. I deserved it. You didn't, but I did."

Steve shook his head and angrily snapped the first aid kit back together, pushing it off the bed and to the floor as he grumbled, " _No_ , you didn't. You haven't deserved any of this."

Bucky chuckled hollowly, more just an airy noise through his nose, and he said, "Maybe you'd think different if you remembered what I do."

And the thing was, Steve couldn't really argue with that. For all that he had been through in his complicated lifetime, he'd never experienced anything like what Bucky had. He could only imagine the guilt and the self-hatred that he'd struggle with if he _had_.

"Look," Steve said quietly, "I can't tell you how you should feel. I'm sure I'd feel the same if it was me. But what I _can_ tell you is that I don't regret anything I've done over this last week. I'd do it all again in a heartbeat."

"I know," Bucky nodded, finally looking up at his friend. "You're still an idiot."

Steve couldn't help it. He grinned and then huffed out a laugh, watching Bucky grin back a little bit too. "Well. Some things never change, right?"

That seemed to ruin Bucky's short-lived moment of light-heartedness. His face slowly fell and he looked away again, seeming to wrestle with something inside. "Some things do."

Steve knew what he meant by that. "I know you're different now, Bucky. And that's okay. I'm different now, too."

Bucky glanced up at him, expression skeptical. "I don't know. You seem the same to me."

"Well," Steve sighed, leaning back and looking down at his hands, knuckles bruised and joints aching, though he knew it wouldn't last long. "Trust me. I have. Hopefully not for the worse, but... I don't know. It's been a weird century so far."

"Aliens are real," Bucky noted, watching his fingers play absently with the rough, old material of his pants near his knee.

"Yeah. I'm friends with one," Steve chuckled.

"But still no flying cars."

Steve shook his head. "Still no flying cars."

Silence fell for a moment, and Steve was caught by how familiar and how different someone could be all at once. This was still the same man that Steve had grown up with and had known since they were kids on a Brooklyn playground, and yet he was, at the same time, no longer that same person. It might have been harder for Steve to accept had he not felt similar deep down inside. It was something he couldn't fully express to anyone in a way that made sense, but Bucky could understand. He might have been the only one in the whole world who could.

"You left your shield back there."

Steve lifted his head, glancing at Bucky again. "Yeah."

"Does that mean you're done?" Bucky asked.

"... I'm not sure," Steve admitted. He'd hardly had time to process it all, let alone come to any real concrete decision, but one thing was at least clear. "I don't know if I'll be _done_ , exactly, but... I can't be Captain America anymore. Not like this. Not after everything that's happened."

"... S'my fault," Bucky muttered, looking away again.

Steve sighed and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "No, it's not. And you can argue all you want, but I'm not gonna budge on that point."

Bucky didn't reply, putting one side of his hair behind his ear and briefly closing his eyes, like he could hardly hold them open anymore. Steve noticed this and said, "We should both probably try to sleep while we can. I'll go get us some water," he said, getting up. "I'll be right back."

Bucky nodded, glancing back at the bed as Steve made his way out of the room. Steve bypassed the kitchen in favor of water bottles stored in the Quinjet, not wanting to take a chance on what would come out of the kitchen faucet. By the time he came back inside the house and returned to the bedroom, Bucky was sprawled out on the left side of the bed above the covers, seemingly asleep already.

Setting the waters down on the old rickety table with a full inch of dust next to the bed, Steve debated for a moment on what to do. He could go downstairs and crash on a couch that he could barely fit one leg on, or he could just take the left side of the bed and sleep next to Bucky like he had countless times before. He wouldn't have thought twice about it back then, and he only was now because he wasn't sure of Bucky's state of mind or willingness to be in close quarters with anyone, even him.

But in the end, exhaustion won out and Steve crawled on the unoccupied side of the bed, eyes feeling unbearably heavy once the prospect of sleep was more than just a theoretical thing. But he hadn't even settled in fully before Bucky suddenly awoke, looking over in bleary alarm and tensing like he was about to bolt from the bed and possibly the whole room.

Steve froze, watching him sit halfway up with a somewhat wild look in his eye. "What? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

After blinking rapidly a few times and looking around like he was trying to remember where he was, Bucky managed to mutter, "I - yeah, I just... I haven't... s'been a long time since..."

Steve studied him carefully, taking a guess as to what was bothering him. "Since you weren't alone?" When Bucky nodded, still not relaxing back down to the bed, Steve nodded and said, "I'm sorry. I can go downstairs instead, but I just thought - since we always used to -"

"Yeah, yeah, when we were kids," Bucky nodded, furrowing his brows like he was trying to remember. "I know."

"But I can leave if you'd rather have the room to yourself, if -"

"No, it's okay," Bucky said, easing back down a bit, letting out a deep breath. "I'm fine."

"It's really no problem if you'd rather -"

" _Steve_ ," Bucky said with clear exasperation, "I said I'm fine."

Steve took a breath and finally relented, ceasing his babbling. "Okay. Sorry. Just... didn't want to..."

"Yeah, I know," Bucky replied, settling back down on his back, head nestled in the regrettably flat pillow beneath it. "Thanks."

Steve settled down as well, also laying on his back and keeping his eyes on the ceiling, unlike Bucky who already looked like he was half asleep. It was a testament to his comfort level with Steve that he could drift back to sleep so quickly, and he decided to take that as a positive sign. He needed as many of those as he could get.

Steve closed his eyes and let his breathing even out, welcoming the pull of sleep until Bucky's voice unexpectedly made him startle back to full consciousness.

"What are you gonna do about your friends?"

Steve frowned and thought back to when they'd left the base in Siberia. T'Challa had been there, holding Baron Zemo down and restraining him until authorities could arrive and apprehend him. He and Steve had shared a few words, and Steve learned that T'Challa had followed Tony to the base from the Raft, where the other Avengers were imprisoned.

"I don't know," Steve replied. "But I'll get them out. One way or another."

Bucky was quiet for a moment. "I'll help. If you want me to."

Steve nodded, though Bucky's eyes were still closed and he couldn't see the gesture. "Yeah. Yeah, we'll figure it out."

"... What about that girl you kissed? What was her name?"

A small, fleeting grin tugged at Steve's lips. "Sharon. Sharon Carter."

Bucky's eyes opened. "Carter?"

"Yeah. She's Peggy's niece. Lived across the hall from me for months in D.C. and I didn't even know."

"... She still around?" Bucky asked, a hint of caution in his voice. "Peggy?"

Steve clenched his jaw, closing his eyes again. "She's gone. Funeral was the day of the bombing in Vienna."

"... Shit," Bucky muttered, head turning to give Steve an apologetic, understanding look. "I'm sorry."

Steve nodded, meeting the other man's eyes. "She lived a good, long life. Had a family and everything. Made a huge difference in the world. I got to have her back for a few years, which was more than I thought I'd get."

Bucky nodded, looking away. "I'm glad you had her. And your friends."

Steve frowned, those words striking a very raw nerve that they hadn't been meant to hit. He didn't look away from Bucky as the dull ache in his heart returned as a result of thinking about how very alone Bucky had been all along.

Steve had woken up in a new century and a new world feeling as alone as a person could, but he hadn't truly been alone. He'd had people looking out for him - Fury, Coulson, and later Nat, Sam, Tony, and Peggy too during lucid moments - but Bucky... he hadn't had anyone. He had broken his conditioning and started running as soon as he could, holing himself up in Romania and getting by on his own, without another soul to talk to.

But he had survived. He'd survived _so much,_ and to still be even half the man that he once was... it was incredible. Steve was sure that he'd always feel like that skinny, sickly kid next to the bigger, stronger, tougher Bucky, even now when technically he had the physical edge over him. Slightly, anyway.

Just as Steve found the words to say - mostly apologies that he wasn't there for him, didn't go back and find him after he fell, crashed into the ice and was useless for 70 years while Hydra made Bucky an unstoppable weapon - he heard a soft snoring sound come from across the bed. He was truly asleep now, lips parted and chest rising and falling peacefully, and Steve let out a breath and turned back to staring at the ceiling.

He'd tell them all those things later. He would apologize until Bucky forgave him, though he knew Bucky didn't blame him for any of it.

He drifted off himself soon after, succumbing to his exhaustion at last. They managed to sleep peacefully side by side for five hours before one of them woke up screaming, which was really far longer than either one of them had dared to hope for.

* * *

Steve jolted up in a panicked daze at the sound of agonized, pained, tortured screaming. He looked to his left and found Bucky lying on his front, gripping his pillow tight in his hand and writhing miserably in the sheets, face twisted in what looked like horrific pain. The sounds coming from his throat sounded hideously like the scream that he'd let out as he had fallen all those years ago - sound that had consistently haunted Steve ever since he had heard it - and he reached out for his friend without a second thought.

Saying his name quietly, making sure not to shout or otherwise startle him and make the situation even worse, Steve tried to gently shake Bucky awake. It didn't work, however, and Bucky kept shouting and making horrible sounds as Steve dragged him to sit up, supporting his weight and trying to force him to wake up.

But when Bucky finally opened his eyes, Steve realized what was truly going on. His blue eyes were glassy and unfocused, mouth still babbling and body mostly limp, and suddenly it felt like Brooklyn in '33 again. That was when Bucky had started having what people now called night terrors, and seeing him in the throes of one now was even more horrifying than when they'd been teenagers and Steve had thought that his friend was dying rather than just experiencing a disturbing sleep occurrence that he wouldn't remember the next day.

This was different than back then. Bucky screaming things like _no_ and _please_ and Russian words Steve didn't understand, all while his eyes were open and fixed on Steve even though he couldn't see him. It made Steve nauseous and anxious, and the fact that Bucky's mother wasn't around to help pull him back to reality made things all the worse. She used to come in and gently pull her son into her arms and just let him slowly come back to her, always whispering words of comfort to him and doing her best to make sure that he knew he wasn't alone.

Steve decided to do the best imitation of her that he could, mainly because it was the only thing he could think to do at all. He pulled Bucky into his arms and sat back against the flimsy headboard behind them, settling them both down and doing everything he remembered Bucky's mother doing. He ran slightly shaky fingers through Bucky's cold-sweat dampened hair, tried to pull him back to reality with his voice, held him tight and did his best to wait for it all to end.

It seemed to go on and on, Steve growing more and more on edge and desperate the longer it dragged on, but it didn't last forever. Eventually Bucky grew quiet, screams turning to low whimpers before disappearing altogether, and the tension left his body along with them. His breaths grew even and his quiet, almost inaudible snores returned, and he sunk back into a peaceful sleep with his fist gripping Steve's shirt, face pressed to his chest and tears drying on his cheeks, and his body curled into his side.

Steve left out a deep sigh of relief, then began to wonder what to do about his current predicament. If he tried to move Bucky out of his arms and back to his own side of the bed, he might wake him up and that was unacceptable after what they'd both just been through. Before he could make a decision one way or the other, however, he was asleep again himself, and the point became moot.

They slept for another hour like that, neither of them moving an inch. The morning was swiftly approaching but it was still dark outside, everything silent except for the sounds of their breathing and the occasional cricket chirping outside the bolted-shut windows.

What eventually brought Steve out of his slumber and back into reality was something very faint and pleasant-feeling. His eyes fluttered open slowly and he vaguely registered the sensation of tingles shooting down his spine, but it took him a bit to determine the cause of it. In a another moment, he realized why it was happening.

Bucky had shifted a little bit in their sleep. Now his hand was laying open on Steve's chest, no longer curled into a tense fist, and he'd tipped his head back at some point as well, causing his breath to wash over the hollow of Steve's throat with every exhale. _That's_ what was causing the involuntary shivers.

That was fine, Steve thought. No big deal. His arm holding Bucky close was dead, however, so it was time to move him back to his own side of the bed. Steve drew a breath and then prepared to move, but he made the mistake of moving his left leg - the one that was closest to Bucky and pressed more firmly against him than he realized - and he accidentally brushed against something that was semi-hard and _not_ what he expected.

But if it had just been that, he still would have been okay. Sure, it was a little awkward but they were both men and it wasn't as if anything could be done about it. But as it happened, that tiny little movement of Steve's leg also happened to make Bucky exhale in a way that was almost a breathless moan, and _that_ was what made Steve freeze and panic a little bit inside.

Bucky didn't freeze, however. Still quite asleep, he seemed to have liked what he'd felt and he tried to chase after it, a tiny, barely-there rock of his hips making Steve's panic deepen and his face all but explode in a deep blush.

 _Oh God_. A night terror he could _sort_ of handle, but this... this was... well, it was different and certainly unprecedented. All those nights spent as kids and then teenagers and young adults in cramped spaces and _this_ had never happened. But then again, Bucky had _never_ been nearly as lonely and touch-starved as he had to have been now, even while unconscious.

And Bucky didn't stop at one time, either. Instead he exhaled a little more raggedly and did it again, and Steve swallowed hard and mentally flailed trying to figure out what to do. He could just lay there and do nothing, and he wouldn't have minded doing that - really, he wouldn't have - but that wouldn't be fair to Bucky because he _never_ would have done this had he been aware of himself, Steve knew that much. And besides, Steve would have wanted to be woken up if he was the one mindlessly grinding against the hip of a friend that he was sleeping next to.

He made up his mind and opened his mouth, prepared to say his friend's name and (hopefully) wake him up. But just before he could get the word out, Bucky burrowed in a little closer, seeming to instinctively seek out more warmth and more skin, and he found it and pressed his face into the side of Steve's neck.

Steve slowly closed his eyes and sighed silently. The longer he waited the more difficult this was becoming, but he couldn't seem to get a word out and he _definitely_ wasn't risking moving again. Bucky was breathing hotly against him, still rolling his hips too, and then he fully and legitimately _moaned_ and something finally snapped in Steve at the same moment that a wave of heat unexpectedly crashed through his body.

"Bucky," he suddenly all but gasped, giving the other man a rattle that was harsher than intended. " _Buck_. Wake up."

And he did. Bucky woke up with a startled jolt and, being essentially draped on Steve already, ended up rolling fully on top of him in a mindlessly protective, cautious way and asking in a dazed and still half-asleep rush, "What? What's happening?"

... Well, this wasn't turning out the way that Steve had intended at all.

They were _extremely_ close, closer than Steve had been to another human being in... well... possibly his entire life. Not only that, but Bucky was looking around the room for danger and thus jostling them both the slightest bit, which wouldn't have been a problem had Bucky not been _very_ hard and pressing down Steve's own growing problem. He wasn't sure when it had happened, but it had and Bucky was going to figure that out as soon as he realized they weren't in danger.

"Nothing," Steve choked out. "Nothing's wrong. Everything's fine, I just... you were..." He blushed brightly, quite visible even in the darkness of the room, and Bucky stared at him in confusion until Steve involuntarily shifted a little and the resulting friction made Bucky's mouth drop open.

Now it was Bucky's turn to blush and recoil under a massive wave of embarrassment. "Shit, _fuck_ ," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to wriggle away some. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Steve managed, ears burning and stomach performing odd acrobatic feats that he wasn't used to.

"No, it's fucking not," Bucky grumbled, maneuvering off of him with his right arm as best as he could. "I'm sorry. Shit. I -"

"It's okay," Steve repeated, a little more firmly this time, and when Bucky stopped trying to get away and looked at Steve like he was crazy, it took entirely too long for Steve to realize that Bucky had stopped because _Steve_ had stopped him.

"... It's okay," Steve repeated a little more softly, trying to convince himself more than Bucky at that point. Bucky continued to stare at him like he was nuts, at least until he glanced down between them and seemed to suddenly notice that he wasn't the only one currently suffering. He looked back up at Steve in disbelief, as if he was trying to figure out if he was still dreaming or not, and Steve had no idea what to do or say.

They stayed frozen like that, breathing but not moving and neither saying a word until Steve blurted out the first string of words that his brain managed to piece together. "You can... if you want, you could..."

Bucky's eyes widened fractionally. "I can what?"

Steve swallowed down a sudden lump in his throat. "Nat... Natasha says that... um... that it's common these days for friends to... um... she offered one time but I turned her down, and -"

Bucky squinted, thoroughly lost. " _What_?"

"I don't know," Steve finally confessed, throwing his head back in frustration. "I'm just trying to help you however I can."

Bucky's confusion seemed to grow exponentially, which wasn't what Steve had expected. He'd expected shock or a sudden burst of laughter, but instead Bucky stared into the distance for a moment and then asked, "Is that something that you... that _we_ used to do?"

Steve shook his head immediately. "No, never. No."

"Then why -"

"I don't know," Steve said again, trying to shrug and ending up grinding against Bucky slightly instead, which made them both suck in a sharp breath of air and Steve cringe to keep from doing it again. "Just forget I said anything."

But Bucky didn't forget. Instead he was quiet for a few seconds and then murmured, "Jesus, Steve, you're as red as your shield." When Steve did nothing but clench his jaw and continue looking at anything but Bucky, he then asked, "Do... do _you_ want to...?"

Insides jolting and twisting at the question, Steve looked up at him and immediately shook his head. "No." He paused. "I don't know." Then his blush very possibly grew to cover his entire body as he admitted, "I've still never... not even once. With anybody."

And that was the true shocker, in Bucky's eyes. More than three years out of the ice and Steve, _Captain America_ , was still a virgin. Any other man in existence would have used his literally perfect physique to seduce the entire world and make up for lost time, but Steve wasn't like that. He never had been and he never would be. He was still the same Steve he'd always been, still the most familiar thing in Bucky's life - maybe even the _only_ familiar thing - and he had just embarrassed himself beyond belief by offering to help Bucky with a problem that they both apparently shared.

Bucky blinked a few times, searching Steve's features even though he was squirming under the scrutiny, finally asking, "You'd want to?"

Steve paused. "... Would you?"

Leaning all of his weight on his right arm, barely holding him up above Steve, Bucky dropped his eyes and muttered, "It's been so _fucking_ long, Steve. Half the time I can't even..." He clenched his jaw and shook his head. "Can't even remember what it's like."

Steve then managed to grin and joke, "Me either." Bucky grinned back at him, albeit tight and strained, but it was a small smile nonetheless. Then he managed to add before he lost his nerve, "Offer stands."

The grin slowly fell off of Bucky's face. Steve watched in concern, insides still twisting and turning, and then Bucky glanced down again and deliberately and fully consciously rolled his hips - _slowly_ \- and watched Steve's mouth fall open and an almost inaudible gasp leave his lips.

"You sure?" Bucky asked, lowering himself down a little more, letting himself enjoy the press of another body to his, even if it wasn't as soft or small as the ones that littered his memories. But it wasn't _just_ a warm body either, not in the slightest. This was someone he trusted with his life - possibly the only person in the whole world that he _could_ trust, and certainly the only one that he would even consider being vulnerable and intimate with, even if he probably never would have thought of it himself. He couldn't break Steve, and Steve wouldn't be repulsed by him or who he was, or what had been done to him.

He kept moving, keeping it light and experimental and cautious, and even that was enough to make Steve's eyes roll shut as he groaned breathlessly, "Yeah."

"Positive?" Bucky asked, though he still didn't let up. "Don't wanna fuck up anything with us. I _can't_. You're all I've got."

Steve opened his eyes upon hearing those incredibly honest words, emotions getting stuck in his throat and pushing down the words he was trying to get out. That was when he noticed Bucky's arm starting to tremble as it supported his considerable weight, and he didn't think twice about his next course of action. He brought up his arms that had been lying useless at his aides the whole time and rolled them over, putting Bucky on his back and saving him from having to exert himself. He was still recovering from a horrible ordeal, after all, and he didn't need to do any of the work, super soldier or not.

Bucky looked up at him in a sudden daze, the change in position catching him off guard. Steve looked down at him, still a little struck that the long-haired, mildly scruffy man in front of him was the very same one who used to never be seen in public with a hair out of place. "I'm positive," he replied at last, the low timbre of his own voice surprising him. "Don't worry. I mean... it kinda makes sense, doesn't it?"

Bucky shook his head. "No. Not for you. You're not like me. You're... you're _you_ and you can have anyone you want."

"... Hasn't really worked out so well for me," Steve said, his breath hitching when Bucky reached down and started tugging down Steve's pants first, then his own. The first fleeting contact of skin on skin made Steve hold his breath and force himself to calm down, body erupting with heat already and shocking him at how fast and consuming it was.

Bucky's hand cautiously moving to Steve's back over his shirt, hesitantly as if he feared it was unwanted, he then said, "Don't tell me you still don't know how to talk to a woman."

"Not really, no," Steve shrugged, shifting his hips and then rolling them down, the simple, light contact making them both gasp quietly like the deprived men that they were. Bucky's hand slid to the back of Steve's neck and pulled him closer, making their foreheads touch, and then Steve added breathlessly, "Guess it's a good thing you're not one of those."

"Shut up," Bucky murmured back with clear affection in his tone, and Steve grinned back at him for a moment until Bucky started pushing up against his every thrust and making everything feel that much better. He closed his eyes and didn't realize how close their lips were getting to one another until he felt the faintest, most cautious brush of a kiss that he'd ever experienced, hardly enough to even be called a kiss.

He opened his eyes after, finding Bucky looking back at him and feeling his fingers gently resting on the back of his head, within his short blonde hair. Just a few seconds passed before Steve closed his eyes again and leaned in, this time for a real kiss that made them both lose their breath.

For all the kisses that Steve had enjoyed in his life - and there had been one or two clear standouts - he'd never had one quite like _this_ before. It was heated and desperate from the start, Bucky seizing the contact and savoring it with every fiber of his being, no restraint between the the two of them. Bucky moaned into his mouth and did things with his tongue that made Steve's head spin and bring back memories that he'd buried a long time ago.

And Steve wasn't the only one. When they broke apart, Bucky opened his eyes slowly and furrowed his brows. "We've done that before," he realized, and Steve reddened and briefly let his rhythm falter.

"... You said it didn't count," Steve muttered, smiling a little. "We were 16 and we got into your mom's liquor cabinet, first time you got me drunk. You started talking about girls and you said I needed to learn how to kiss and..."

"... And I taught you," Bucky grinned a bit devilishly.

"Yeah, you did," Steve grinned back, though his face was still aflame.

Bucky's fingers tightened in his hair again and pulled him back down, stealing another kiss before noting, "You still taste the same."

"So do you," Steve replied, and Bucky captured his lips again and shut him back up. Steve melted into the kiss, and from there, everything else came so naturally it was a wonder that it truly was the first time they'd ever done this before.

It was all quiet groans and the sound of skin sliding against skin, kiss-swollen lips meeting again and again and taking what they could while they could, no questions or second guessing. Their mutual pleasure grew slowly, as any more direct touching than what Steve allowed would have ended things too fast, and it was by the furthest that Steve had ever gone with someone else. By contrast, it was probably one of the most innocent sexual encounters that Bucky had ever had, but his quiet moans and the heat in his eyes and the faint tremble in his body gave away how much he was savoring every last bit of it.

Steve just wanted to make him feel better for a little while. He'd been through so much pain, so much loss, _so much_ , and he deserved so much more than Steve could ever give him. But he could give him this, a few long, blissful minutes of relief and a human connection that they had both lacked for far too long.

" _Steve_ ," Bucky groaned against Steve's mouth, hand now under the back of his shirt and moving restlessly, short nails biting into the skin between his shoulder blades as he grew more desperate. " _God_."

"It's okay," Steve told him somewhat mindlessly, words leaving his mouth on autopilot as he dropped his face against Bucky's neck. "It's all right. I'm here, I've got you."

Bucky moaned as Steve rained kisses down his neck, eyes closed and nearing the breaking point. "I'm gonna... fuck, Steve, I'm..."

"Go on," Steve murmured, bringing his lips back to Bucky's and tangling his hand in his hair, holding him close. "I've got you."

Bucky clutched him harder, body tensing and moving erratically until it all came to a head and his lips parted and eyes rolled shut, back arching and pleasure wracking through him at last. Steve watched him in awe, having never seen someone come apart like that with his own two eyes - in person, anyway - and it was beautiful. _He_ was beautiful, and Steve followed him over the edge before Bucky had even caught his breath.

For how long they had gone without anything like it and how overwhelmingly sweet it had been to finally feel another's person's touch, they took their time in coming back down to earth. Steve kept most of his weight off of Bucky, ever mindful of his injuries and bruises, and after he could tell that Bucky's breathing had calmed, Steve lifted up his head and chanced a look at his friend.

Bucky eyes were shut, bliss still etched on his face, and it made a much prettier sight than pain did. Steve took a mental snapshot, committing it to memory so that if he had the guts to later, he could draw it. Then, once he'd had his fill, he leaned down and brushed a tiny kiss over Bucky's jaw, and Bucky stirred and winced a little.

"... You made a mess."

Steve narrowed his eyes at Bucky when he opened his own and flashed him a sated grin. " _I_ did?" Steve asked, pulling off of Bucky and taking off his too-small t-shirt. "Think you've got at least half the blame for that, pal."

Bucky made a noncommittal noise, letting Steve use the shirt to clean them both off passably well. They both needed to hit the shower, really, for more than one reason, but neither of them had any will to leave the bed any time soon. They were exhausted all over again, this time in a mostly pleasant way, and they could steal a few more hours of sleep before they had to get up and get moving.

Tossing the shirt carelessly on the floor, Steve then collapsed back down to the bed. He felt lighter now, looser and far more relaxed, and judging by the way that Bucky was laying there with his shirt half up his chest and his pants still stuck somewhere mid-thigh, seemingly without a care in the world.

Outside the windows, day was breaking and the sun was making its slow ascent in the east. The world was still spinning and countless people within it - officials, law enforcement, intelligence agents - were strategizing on how best to apprehend the two men currently curled up in bed together half-asleep. They were the two most wanted men in the world now, two soldiers who had both given their lives in service for their country and yet were still breathing and now on the run from a generation of folks who wouldn't even have existed had it not been for the sacrifices of men like Steve and Bucky.

But that was the world they lived in, and they'd deal with it and find their way through it. Steve was sure of that. And when Bucky turned towards him with sleepy, sweet eyes and shot him an amused, almost ironic grin, Steve couldn't help but laugh a little and shake his head. What a strange, unexpected night.

"Let me guess," Steve said, throwing the old, thin blanket over both of them, "just practice, right? Doesn't count?"

Bucky shook his head tiredly, still giving him that little grin. "No. That definitely counted."

"I'll be sure to update my resume," Steve remarked dryly, and Bucky shook his head and closed his eyes,

Steve did the same, lying on his back again and letting the lure of sleep pull him back under. He was halfway there when he felt the bed shift next to him, and before he could even open his eyes, there were lips on his giving him a sweet, grateful kiss.

The kiss catching him by surprise, Steve opened his eyes after Bucky drew away and muttered, "Thank you."

Steve smiled and nodded. "You don't have to thank me. I wanted to... uh..." he trailed off, having not thought that particular sentence through very well.

Bucky grinned, amused, and then dropped down next to Steve on his side, facing him. "Yeah. I could tell you wanted to."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

Bucky did in fact fall silent, and so did Steve. As light began to slowly pour into the house and bring the new day around, both men fell back asleep and stayed asleep until they damn well pleased, which was later than either one of them had slept in ages.

Soon enough they'd have to get up and go, get back on the run and figure out where they were going to go and what they were going to do. Nothing about any of the potential paths before them were simple or pleasant, but at least they weren't alone. They'd face what came their way together, like they'd always used to, and just knowing that helped them to sleep a little better than they ever would have on their own.

They were, quite simply, irreplaceable in each other's lives. And whatever that did or didn't mean for the future, they didn't have to worry about it then. For at least that night and that following morning, they were safe and they were together. And that alone was more than either one of them thought they deserved.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: HAYYYYYY EVERYBODY so fun story: last year, as pregnancy scrambled my brain and left me utterly useless when it came to writing, I had a brief burst of motivation to write a follow up to my one and only Stucky oneshot. So I started it and wrote it a lot more slowly than I typically write things but that's what being pregnant did to me for some reason, and then finally I got to a certain point, decided I hated the entire thing and that it was trash, and proceeded to forget all about it lol. Then this last week I was browsing through my drafts instead of getting my act together and writing more TDDUP (I know, I know) and I found it and reread and was SHOCKED to discover that I actually really liked it. Cue new burst of motivation to finish it aaaaaand here we are :) It's something, amirite?**

 **So this takes places still before the Civil War end credit scenes, and I think this will probably be my only follow up to this little story, just because I have a feeling that Infinity War won't really be conducive to further development here lol (though I could be wrong, in which case who knows what'll happen lol). My great and huge thanks to midnightwings96 for helping me get unstuck when I wrote myself into a corner here, and for always being a giant source of support even when I'm rattling around my drafts continuing to find ways of procrastinating on my other stuff lol (though I'm expecting her patience to wear out and snap any day now, as well as that of you lovely readers :p) Also big thanks and hugs to MorningGlory2 whom I bounced this idea off of last year and helped me form a coherent plan, even though I then put it off for months on end lol but hey better late than never! Hopefully a few of you wonderful readers like it, I love you guys and look forward to hearing from you! :D**

Wakanda really was lovely this time of year. Or at least it seemed that way from the little cabin Steve was currently tucked away in on a picturesque mountainside, as the sun set on another blissfully warm day.

The cabin had been, according to the blessedly generous T'Challa, used by the royal family for generations for private getaways and was as secure as the palace itself. Members of the royal guard were nearby at all times but out of sight, protecting the cabin's two fugitive inhabitants by order of the King himself. On the very, very slim chance that somebody would come looking for them, they'd be dead or apprehended before they even got a glimpse of the cabin.

Steve had been to a lot of places in his lifetime, but he'd never seen anything quite like Wakanda. Pictures and books could never do it justice or even partially capture the natural rich beauty that now laid just outside his window. It was a balm to him, relaxing and tranquil as he finished healing from the mess in Siberia. Physically, the only evidence he bore now was a slew of mostly healed cuts and scrapes, but mentally he was entirely another story.

Without his shield and without his team, Steve was as lost as he had ever been and yet had gained more clarity through the chaos than he ever would have expected. He had given up everything in Siberia, even his very identity as the hero that the world had known for so long, but he couldn't find it in himself to regret a single action that he'd taken. Of all the things in his life that had left him confused and unsure of his purpose and of what the hell he was doing, giving all of it up for his best friend was the one thing that he knew he'd never question.

Where he went from here, however, was a question he didn't know how to answer. His only source of comfort was not being quite as alone as he'd once been, and having a huge piece of his old life back within his grasp.

Stirring him from his sunset-gazing thoughts was the sound of the bathroom door opening and clicking shut behind him. He turned his head and glanced at Bucky emerging wet-headed and dressed following a shower, prompting him to ask, "Feel better?"

Bucky glanced up and pushed his damp hair behind his ears, one side at a time with his right hand, muttering, "I could spend all day in there."

"You almost did, pal," Steve pointed out, gesturing to the window. "Sun's down and everything."

"Good thing we ain't got a bedtime anymore," Bucky half-grinned before heading out to the cozy little living room beyond the bedroom they kinda-sorta shared.

Steve sighed and made to follow him. They'd been here for the better part of a week, and most of the time Steve slept on the bedroom floor while Bucky took the bed. It was mainly due to the fact that the bed, while not exactly small, wasn't quite equipped to handle two full-sized super soldiers, at least not without their limbs uncomfortably overlapping for a large portion of the night. But neither of them wanted to sleep in different rooms - though they hadn't admitted it in words - so they didn't question the arrangement. They also hadn't mentioned once what had happened between them in the safe house in Russia, and really, that was fine with Steve. No need to talk and make it awkward when it wasn't. Whatever had happened, it _happened_ and that seemed to be the end of it.

Steve wasn't sure how long they were going to be there. He needed to rescue his team from their watery prison at the Raft, but aside from that... neither he nor Bucky had anywhere to go or really anything to do. Bucky was still a highly wanted fugitive and now Steve was too, but they couldn't stay camped out in T'Challa's backyard forever. But where could they go? Unless the mess with the Accords could ever be straightened out - along with a long list of other factors - Bucky could never show his face again, and Steve wasn't going to go anywhere he couldn't follow. _To the end of the line_ covered a hell of a lot of ground, and Steve didn't intend on skimping on a single inch.

But instead of mentioning even a word of these thoughts, Steve instead followed Bucky to the extremely comfortable couch and plopped down next to him, accepting a bottle of Wakandan-brewed beer that Bucky offered and then asking, "So, movie?"

"Sure," Bucky shrugged, making himself comfortable against the cushions. "You pick."

The cabin came equipped with a state of the art entertainment center with the most eclectic and international collection of movies that Steve had ever seen. By now pretty familiar with its contents, Steve asked, "Wanna give _Star Wars_ a try?"

"Seen 'em," Bucky said, knocking back his own drink.

Steve furrowed his brows. _He had_? "You have?" When Bucky nodded casually in reply, Steve then asked, "When?"

"I spent two years in Romania by myself, Steve," Bucky replied, mildly amused. "I had a lot of time on my hands."

"... Fair enough," Steve said, brows still furrowed. He paused and then asked, "You know, I've been curious... how did you... get by? Did you have a job, or..."

Bucky lowered his drink and shrugged. "Odd jobs, mostly. I fixed stuff around the building for the owner, s'why they let me stay there. Whatever I had leftover I used for food, clothes."

"And movies?" Steve grinned.

"Like I said," Bucky replied, "I had a lot of time on my hands."

Steve nodded and looked away, a slight smile on his face. "After I came out of the ice, I made a list of movies and music, TV shows, you name it, that everyone said I needed to catch up on. Still haven't gotten through the whole list yet."

Bucky nodded. A moment of brief silence passed before he noted, "The Internet's... crazy."

"Tell me about it," Steve chuckled. "I've got _stories_. When I worked at SHIELD, everyone got a kick out of sending me links to stuff to try to get a rise out of me. I've... seen things."

"I bet," Bucky said. "I'm still trying to get used to it all. So different from when we were kids."

"Yes it is," Steve agreed with a light sigh. After another brief pause, he glanced at Bucky and asked, "So what else did you do, aside from all of that?"

"... Not a lot, honestly," Bucky admitted. "Just... tried to keep my head down, stay away from crowds. Read a lot of books from the library. Tried to stay busy, I guess."

"Ever meet any cute Romanian girls?" Steve asked with a grin.

"Hell no," Bucky chuckled, looking at Steve like he was crazy. "I tried to look scary and homeless on purpose, to keep people away. It worked."

"You know, a lot of girls these days like that kind of thing," Steve pointed out. "The long hair and the... scruffy... thing." At Bucky's puzzled expression, he shrugged. "That's what I've been told, anyway."

"Who told you that?"

"Nat, mostly," Steve replied. "She spent the better part of a year trying to convince me to grow a beard."

"You with a beard," Bucky mused, furrowing his brows and considering that apparently foreign concept. "Weird. But you could probably pull it off."

"Maybe, but I can just _hear_ my mom having a heart attack in her grave," Steve shook his head. "Besides, it wouldn't look right with the helmet." He paused, realizing what he'd just said. "Not that I have to worry about that anymore."

And just like that, they'd nearly broached something Steve had worked hard to avoid for the last week - serious discussions about what was going on. He'd managed to tiptoe around everything so well, even when the sight of Bucky's missing left arm made his blood boil in rage against Tony or when nightmares would wake one or both of them up in the dead of night. It was so much easier to just pretend that all of that was somehow behind them and that they didn't have to address any of it, and that they could be the men that they had once been when everything had been simple and made sense.

Never mind that he knew full well how much they'd both changed and how things would never be that simple again. Bucky surely knew that as well. But Steve just didn't want to think about that just yet. He wanted to enjoy having his best friend back and taking it easy for a little while, while they were both safe and spared of chaos for a time. Was that too much to ask for?

"Steve?"

He looked up to find Bucky eyeing him a bit unsurely, as if what he was about to say wasn't going to be easy. He hesitated and then, as if changing his mind, Bucky shrugged and asked, "Gonna pick a movie?"

"Oh. Yeah," Steve said, shaking off the last few minutes and getting up from the couch. Resolving to leave those darker thoughts behind for then, he headed for the enormous movie collection and ended up coming across a _Star Wars_ installment that Bucky had _not_ yet seen. After putting _The Force Awakens_ into the Blu-Ray player, Steve took his place back on the couch and, for the next hour and a half, continued to ignore the elephant in the room.

What he didn't know was that Bucky was ignoring an elephant of his very own, and a damn hefty one at that.

Throughout the film, they downed a few more beers with zero effect and chatted about the film and how it held up against its legendary predecessors. Steve was skeptical at first, but Bucky liked it from the start and seemed especially fond of Rey, the new series lead. They both managed to be shocked and in denial of Han Solo's final scene in the film, and all in all, the movie did a fantastic job of distracting them both which was, after all, what Steve had been hoping for to begin with. Once it was over, they chatted about it while the credits rolled for a full five minutes, finishing off the last of their drinks and, once the movie returned to the main menu, falling silent.

Steve glanced at the time, displayed digitally underneath the TV, and then he turned off the Blu-Ray player and said, "Well. It's getting pretty late now. Hungry?"

Bucky shook his head. They'd eaten dinner earlier - a particularly delicious concoction of something pre-prepared that they'd found in the freezer - but Bucky _not_ being hungry was out of character. He had an appetite to match Steve's and sometimes even surpass it, so Steve paused and asked, "Really?"

Bucky shook his head again and leaned forward, setting his empty bottle down and shoving his hair behind his ears, more nervously than anything. Now Steve could _tell_ that something was bothering him, especially as Bucky's brow furrowed some and he let his hand hang between his knees, starting to fidget just a little bit with his fingers.

"Everything okay?" Steve asked, the pinch in his features giving away the fact that he knew full well that everything wasn't. Waiting in suspense for a few long seconds, his brain ran the gamut of everything that could possibly be to blame for Bucky's clear discomfort and hesitance to speak, but the true reason was one that he never would have anticipated.

"Yeah, yeah," Bucky assured him eventually, managing to look his way. "Just... there's something I haven't told you. Keep putting it off and now it's kinda the last minute and... yeah."

Now Steve was even more confused - and alarmed - than before. "What's going on?"

Bucky sighed and began to explain. "Not long after we got here I talked to T'Challa, and... I've had a lot of time to think. I've had nothing _but_ time to think. He says he's confident they'll find a way to get this... shit out of my head, but nobody knows how long it might be. Could be a year or more for all I know. And I don't wanna live like that, Steve. Waking up everyday and knowing I'm just a handful of words away from killing innocent people. I don't wanna do that. I _can't_ do that."

"... What are you saying?" Steve asked, heart pounding in his ears and feeling dangerously close to panicking, like the next words out of Bucky's mouth would surely set him off along a downward spiral of God only knew what.

Bucky hesitated before looking Steve in the eye and finally letting the truth slip out. "I'm going back under." He paused, swallowing. "Tomorrow."

To say that Steve went into a very real state of shock thanks to those words was putting it very mildly. His eyes widened and his airway constricted, memories of past asthma attacks flooding his brain like muscle memory and making him feel even more panic on top of what was already instantly setting in. His ears felt hot and he suddenly felt like he might also be sick, all of these things converging on him without mercy and forcing him to get up without a word and rush towards the nearest window.

He threw the window open and sucked in a huge breath of warm, humid night air, reminding himself that he _could_ breathe and that he wasn't relapsing, wasn't sick, wasn't dying. It was all in his head, a visceral mental and physical reaction to learning that he'd be losing his best friend all over again just the next day.

He dropped his head and tried to relax his breathing, he really did, but he just couldn't. He started shaking beyond his control, and he realized with no small amount of alarm that it was because he was about to start _crying_.

"Steve?" Bucky asked timidly from behind, eyes wide with concern. "Steve..."

Steve shook his head, and for the first time in a very long time, he found that he simply wasn't able to lie and say that he was fine or to just shake it off and put on a brave face. And it wasn't just because of Bucky's news - it was _everything_. All of his confusion and depression since he'd come out of the ice, his lack of direction and weakening faith in what he was fighting for. It was Peggy - _God, Peggy._ She really was gone, and she was never coming back. He'd never see her again. His first love, the first woman to look at him and see a man worth loving rather than a sickly burden on society, gone. It was Tony, whom Steve had watched in a sickening panic as he tried to kill Bucky with his bare hands. Tony, who Steve had always had a volatile relationship with but needed just the same as he needed his whole team. But his team was gone now, in prison or injured or off the grid, like Nat, and Captain America was gone too. Everything was gone, everything was lost, everything and everyone _except_ Bucky.

But now he was leaving him too. And _dammit_ Steve just didn't have it in him anymore to be strong. His strength was gone, and in those few terrible moments he might as well have been his old 90-pound wheezing self again.

"You can't," Steve muttered, ashamed to be crying as he was and refusing to turn around and let Bucky see just how pathetic he was. It was bad enough that he could hear it. His voice broken and defeated, he added, "I _just_ got you back."

Bucky's own face fell, Steve's reaction both horrifying him and making him feel so horridly guilty that he would have changed his mind on the spot if only he _could_. "Hey," he said softly, reaching out towards Steve's shoulder, but the minute he made contact Steve recoiled.

"I looked for you," Steve said, now irrationally angry and turning around, no longer caring to hide his tears. "I looked for you for _two years._ I thought of hardly anything else, I barely slept, I wondered if you were even _alive_ -"

"I know," Bucky interrupted, "and I'm sorry. But -"

"Then I finally find you, and you're not - _you're you_ ," Steve said a little desperately, a fresh and even more embarrassing wave of tears making their presence known. "You remember and you're _good_ and getting you back is the one thing keeping me together right now. You _can't_ go back under, Buck. It could be years. It could be - it's not even safe! What if you don't wake up this time? What if -"

"Steve, _fuck_ ," Bucky groaned, finally just stepping forward and pulling Steve into the biggest and tightest one-armed hug that he could manage. Steve resisted for all of two seconds before falling limp and clinging to him like a lifeline, all while Bucky told him quietly, "I'm gonna wake up. And I'm not leaving. I'm coming back."

But that was no consolation for Steve, who felt as if he was looking at another eternity alone, without the one person who knew him better than anyone and had known him all his life, literally the only person who could truly understand all that he had been through in his weird, too-long but barely 30-year long life. Crying on Bucky's shoulder now and wishing that he wasn't, Steve muttered, " _But I just got you back_."

Bucky winced and hugged him tighter, squeezing his eyes shut. "I know. But I've gotta do this. S'my choice, Steve."

And that, Steve realized even through all the emotions running wild through his head, was the crux of the matter. For 70 years, Bucky hadn't had a choice in anything from the cut of his hair to whom he was sent to kill in the name of evil. Now he had a choice, and he was choosing not to risk the life of any more innocent people and sacrificing potentially _years_ of his own life to ensure that he didn't hurt anyone else. And who was Steve to argue with that?

He couldn't. But at the same time, he was sick of being selfless. He just wanted, for once in his life, one thing of his own that he got to keep and treasure without the world or time or war taking it away. He'd lost his family, lost his old life, lost Peggy, lost everything over and over again, and somehow now he had to learn to give up someone he'd swore to himself that he'd never lose again.

"It's not fair," he said, feeling a bit like a child throwing a tantrum, but he was well past the point of caring.

"I know," Bucky told him. "Trust me, I know. But it's the best thing."

Not for Steve. Not by a longshot. Still, Steve nodded and slipped out of the hug, keeping his eyes cast down even as Bucky tried to look at him and search his saddened features. Steve stepped away, wiping at his face and walking mindlessly out of the living room. He ended up in the bathroom attached to the bedroom, cleaning his face and splashing water on it, trying to pull himself together. The tears had finally stopped, but now when he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he felt more unsure than ever as to just who was looking back at him.

He wasn't stupid. He knew why all of this was suddenly crashing down on him now. It was because he had been neglecting himself for so long, getting up and going and _going_ and pushing down the uncertainty and anxiety that seemed only to grow more with each passing year, and now his stubborn ignoring of it all had inevitably backfired at likely the worst moment possible. There was so much he'd never fully processed, so much he'd never worked through in a healthy, effective way, and now he was left to wade through the consequences alone.

 _Alone_.

He was so completely and utterly sick of being alone.

After cleaning himself up as best as he could, he left the bathroom and walked into the bedroom to find Bucky sitting on the edge of the bed, apparently waiting for him. Steve briefly glanced at him before looking away and taking a seat next to him, keeping his eyes forward because looking at Bucky was particularly difficult at the moment.

"Sorry I lost it back there," Steve muttered, sniffling still and staring at his hands.

"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner," Bucky replied softly, watching Steve carefully. "I just... didn't wanna ruin the whole week. It's been fun. Knew as soon as I said it everything would change."

Steve let out a breath and finally met the other man's gaze. "You don't have to do this. I can protect you. The chances of someone finding that book and actually getting to you -"

"It happened before and it can happen again," Bucky interrupted gently.

"But that was different," Steve insisted. "You're safe now. And I'm not gonna let anyone get to you."

"Steve," Bucky said with a humorless chuckle, "you're stuck in a cabin with the world's most wanted killer. You can't go anywhere, can't do anything. Not with me. And I don't want you to stop living for my sake."

"But I wasn't -" Steve clamped his mouth shut before the truth could tumble out. _But I wasn't living anyway_ , he nearly said, and he wasn't ready to talk that level of truth just yet. Instead he sighed and said, "I'm wanted, too. We're in the same boat."

"Not really," Bucky shook his head. "Whatever laws you broke... once the shit hits the fan again, nobody's gonna care about what you did. They'll just want you to save the world again. They'll forgive you in a heartbeat and you know it. Most of the world's probably on your side anyway. It's not like that for me."

"I know," Steve said softly. "But you shouldn't give up."

"I'm not," Bucky replied. "When I'm not a danger anymore... then I'll deal with everything."

His mind was well and made up, it was clear. Steve couldn't persuade him. Couldn't do a damn thing. _Useless as always_.

" _Steve_."

He looked up to find Bucky looking at him as if he could see straight through him. He didn't like it, but he didn't have the energy to try to put on a brave face or conceal what he was feeling.

Something unbelievably sad passed through Bucky's eyes as he noted, "You've changed."

Steve furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?"

"You're..." Bucky paused and searched for the right words. Finally he found one. "You seem... _hollow_."

Steve's features grew even more distressed. But the word described him so well that it nearly made him cry all over again.

"It's almost like all the life's gone out of you," Bucky added. "You're still _you_ , but..."

"I know," Steve muttered, turning away. "I just... coming out of the ice, losing everything and everyone I knew... I just... started working and never stopped. It's all I've got. I don't know how to live without a war. I don't know how to go home."

"... But you _do_ have more than that," Bucky said. "You have your friends."

"And I love them," Steve nodded. "But look where I got them."

"... You mean where _I_ got them," Bucky muttered, his turn now to look away.

Steve sighed. What a mess of self-hating idiots they both were. "No. It was me. They'd all say the same."

"Either way," Bucky shrugged. "Everyone would have been better off if I'd just gone down with the helicarriers."

Steve turned back to him and immediately replied, "I wouldn't."

"Sure about that?" Bucky smiled humorlessly. "You wouldn't be sitting here crying and I wouldn't feel like the world's most heartless bastard, like I'm abandoning you again."

That confession taking Steve by surprise, he opened his mouth and lacked words to say back as Bucky winced and clenched his jaw, frustrated at himself for saying what he had. Steve simply drew a breath and said, "Listen... I don't want you to feel like that. I understand your reasons. And you're right, it's your decision and nobody else's. I just... wish you'd reconsider."

Bucky sighed and then dropped back on the bed, lying down with his legs dangling off the edge. "Well... seeing you break down like that makes me wish I would too."

That didn't make Steve feel any better. He didn't want to cause Bucky to feel guilt or any other negative emotion. He should have just kept his mouth shut and bottled his emotions more tightly and been supportive like the friend he was supposed to be, even if it had killed him inside.

Eyes closed and arm tossed over his head, Bucky said, "So... let's say I changed my mind. Just hypothetically. What's your plan? Where would we go? What would we do?"

Steve glanced back at him, suddenly feeling more tired than he had in ages. He laid down too, next to his best friend as he drew a breath and said, "Well, I figured we'd stay here long enough to get you a new arm. That's first on the agenda."

"Would make washing my hair a little easier," Bucky quipped. Steve almost smiled.

"Haircut too," Steve added.

Bucky cracked open an eye. "Why?"

"Because the hair gives you away," Steve said, looking at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You'd instantly be like... 70% less recognizable."

"And what about you, Mr. Global Icon?" Bucky shot back. "A hat only goes so far."

Steve shrugged and turned his eyes back to the ceiling. "Maybe I'd take Nat's advice and grow a beard."

"Yeah, nobody would recognize you then," Bucky chuckled. "So then what?"

"... Then we figure out where we wanna go," Steve said. "We got the Quinjet. We can go anywhere. But we'd have to pay a visit to the Raft first."

"Prison breaks are always fun," Bucky mused.

"Once everyone's free... maybe we... take a long island vacation?" Steve suggested, not meaning for it to come out sounding like a question. "Going somewhere warm sounds nice. And I've never really... taken... a vacation."

Bucky furrowed his brows. "Never?"

Steve shook his head. "Not really. Never been to the Bahamas either."

"Not remote enough," Bucky opined. "You'd have to find the most isolated rock in the ocean."

"Well, I don't know about _that_ ," Steve said. "Can't be too isolated. I can't farm and grow our own food, you know."

"You're a disgrace," Bucky teased, smiling while Steve chuckled.

"Just need to find somewhere private," Steve said. "T'Challa can probably help with that."

"And your girlfriend," Bucky added.

"She's not my girlfriend," Steve sighed, hoping Sharon wasn't also in the Raft by now as a result of her aid to Steve and his team.

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind paying you a visit though," Bucky grinned, glancing at Steve. "Least that's the impression I got from where I was sitting in that car."

"Yeah, yeah," Steve muttered, brushing him off. He certainly liked Sharon, but he couldn't see much of a future for them given the current state of things. Being on the right side of the law as she was, Steve kind of _had_ to keep his distance.

A few moments of silence passed before Bucky took a breath and said, "It's not that I don't want to do it, Steve. I'd love to just... stop worrying and go live somewhere nice and just... _live_. But I -"

"You can't," Steve nodded, staring up at the ceiling. "I know. I understand."

Bucky's eyes were on him, and Steve could feel it. "But I don't like leaving you like this. You're worrying me."

Steve shook his head and sat up, blowing out a breath. "I'm fine."

Still laying down and still watching Steve, Bucky replied quietly, "No you're not."

Steve paused. He couldn't pretend with Bucky, no matter how hard he tried. That much had never changed. "No, I'm not. But I will be."

As unconvincing as those words were, they were all Steve had and Bucky had no choice but to accept them and hope that they were true. It was late, so it wasn't much longer after that when Steve hit the lights and they both got ready for bed. This time Bucky insisted that Steve sleep in the damn bed, and after a bit of utterly futile arguing, Steve gave in and took the other side of the bed. There was hardly any room between them but it didn't really matter, and they both fell asleep surprisingly quickly in the new arrangement.

Steve told himself as he drifted off to enjoy it while it lasted, because after tomorrow, who knew when he'd see Bucky again.

He told himself that he understood, that it made sense, that he wasn't hurt. But while he did understand and it did make sense, he _was_ hurt and the ache in his heart hadn't eased one bit since his earlier breakdown. He didn't expect it to get better any time soon.

It was another burden to bear, and that seemed to be what he did best - shoulder burden after burden until one of these days, he'd just collapse and perhaps not get back up.

He could almost hear Peggy chuckling and calling him _so dramatic_ , from wherever she was now. Almost.

* * *

It was in the dead of night when Steve shot awake from a nightmare, the worst one that he'd had in _months_. He woke up in tears and gasping for breath, instantly waking Bucky up too almost the very moment his own eyes opened.

He sat up in the bed, sweating and cold and hot at the same time, breathing hard and feeling like he was breaking apart at the seams. The dream had been a too-bright, too-real mashup of all the worst moments in his life, the weight of Peggy's casket pulling him down throughout the entire thing, Bucky's screams haunting his ears, the Valkyrie crashing into the ice, losing everything and everyone all over again. Flashes of war, of death, of things he'd never forget no matter how badly he wished he would, every failure and loss shoved in his face to make sure he'd never move on. And then to wake up from that and remember where he was - in Wakanda, about to lose Bucky again the next day - it was enough to make him break down all over again.

"Hey," Bucky said quietly, reaching out and touching Steve's shoulder, trying to comfort him in some way. "S'okay. Just a nightmare."

Steve shook his head, "it was real, all of it. Memories and... war and... _God_." He dropped his face into his hands, just wanting to catch a damn break for once, but that was apparently never gonna happen.

"It's over now," Bucky said, hand still on his shoulder, voice still gentle. "Just breathe. S'all right. I'm here."

 _I'm here_. But tomorrow, he wouldn't be. And that was when something inside of Steve shattered, and everything he did next came purely out of desperate, broken instinct and need.

He turned towards Bucky, sitting just a breath away from him, really, and pled with him almost pathetically, " _Please_ don't go back under tomorrow."

Bucky's sleepy, concerned face fell. " _Steve_..."

"Just... please," Steve said desperately, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. "You don't have to. We can... we can figure everything out and..."

" _Steve_ ," Bucky repeated as if it was killing him to keep saying no, "you know why I can't do that. Please stop making me say no to you."

Intellectually, Steve knew there was no hope of changing Bucky's mind. But Steve was currently being ruled by his heart rather than a single cell of his brain, and when Steve was faced with impossible, unbeatable odds, he tended to do things that were absolutely reckless and sometimes even just flat out stupid. He would act rather than think, out of a sometimes rather dangerous impulsivity, and this time was no exception.

Crying and throwing a fit wouldn't work. Neither would begging. The only thing left was to suspend all rational thought and do something almost guaranteed to just confuse Bucky rather than change his mind. But at least it was _something_.

And so, tossing aside all logic and reason, Steve grabbed him and kissed him. He knew it was ridiculous and he didn't care, at least until he heard the muffled noise of surprise that Bucky made against his lips. That single, barely audible noise made him suddenly realize what he'd just done, and just as quickly as the kiss began, Steve then pulled away with a jolt and a semi-horrified, "Oh, _God_ , I'm sorry, I..."

Bucky stared at him, at an utter loss and confused but maybe not as much as he should have been. Steve, blushing with embarrassment and words stuck in his throat, looked at Bucky with a mixture of shame and sadness and that same hollowness that Bucky couldn't stand to see anymore.

"Just... forget I did that," Steve muttered. "I don't know what I was thinking. I just -"

To his shock, a warm hand slipped behind his neck and then pulled him in, and Bucky shut him up by laying a much less rushed and far more gentle kiss on his lips. That was all it was, just one little kiss, and then Bucky drew away with his hand still resting on Steve's neck. "It's okay," he murmured, looking Steve in the eye. "I understand."

Steve's brows furrowed. "You do?" Steve himself hardly understood his own actions, so how could anyone else?

Bucky's hand slid to Steve's shoulder and lingered there. "We just did this like... a week ago," Bucky chuckled quietly. "And I hurt you today. I'm sorry."

Steve shook his head, eyes falling away. "Don't be. I overreacted. I'm still overreacting."

"Not the way I see it," Bucky told him. "You know... you told me back at that safe house in Russia that you just wanted to help me however you could. You know I'll do the same for you. If you want it."

Steve stared at him, surprised and confused and yet not at all, really. But _did_ he want it? His brain was such a jumbled mess of all sorts of things he didn't want to deal with, and now that he'd gone and gotten himself in this situation... maybe he _did_ want it. The comfort and the closeness, the relief of not being so alone for a little while, of sharing something like this with someone that he trusted more than anyone else in the world...

His eyes lifted up and met Bucky's, and one tiny, barely-there nod of his head was all the confirmation Bucky needed. Bucky's expression changed then, became a little darker and more determined, and it sent a flash of heat down Steve's spine that he wasn't expecting. Then Bucky leaned in again, and Steve met him halfway in a kiss that was still a little too timid, considering this wasn't their first time. But this was still far from familiar territory, and Steve was still surprised that Bucky was okay with this.

... Was he?

"Wait," Steve said, breaking away breathlessly. "Are you sure? If you don't want to -"

"Jesus, Steve," Bucky rolled his eyes, inching closer to Steve and sliding his hand to his short hair. "I just wish I had both my hands."

"... Oh," Steve replied a bit dumbly, just before Bucky kissed him again.

They really should talk about this, he thought. They hadn't talked about the first time once since it had happened, minus Bucky's mention of it only minutes earlier, and he was about to break away to say something but then Bucky did something with his tongue that was... _dizzying_ , and he decided that they could talk later.

Bucky really was an incredible kisser, he couldn't deny that. He'd never kissed anyone with equal skill - except maybe for Peggy, but their only kiss had just been too damn fleeting to know - and Steve was losing his head fast. He didn't even notice the way that Bucky was tugging at his shirt until he broke away and muttered, " _Off_."

He complied quickly, pulling the shirt off and dropping it as Bucky did the same with his own, and when their lips collided again, so did a lot more bare skin than Steve knew what to do with. Last time they'd kept their shirts on and it had made sense, but this time it was _very_ different already. It wasn't a weird accidental thing that they had stumbled into cautiously and awkwardly, but rather something that was very deliberate and, by the looks of things, equally desired. Steve knew already that things were going to go further than before, there was no doubt, and the thought made him both unspeakably nervous and _shamefully_ excited.

Hesitantly, Steve brought his hands up from his sides and let them hover for a moment of uncertainty before letting them fall on Bucky's waist. It was the safest place he could think of and yet not safe at all, and he was thinking entirely too much but he couldn't help it because -

" _Tell me what you want,_ " came Bucky's low almost-whisper as he kissed down Steve's jaw, giving him a minute to catch his breath.

"... What?" Steve replied, panting and not fully comprehending words or the very concept of them.

Bucky looked up and met his gaze, looking a little bit amused and altogether more coherent than Steve but no less affected by what was happening. "What do you want me to do?"

Steve stared at his friend, mind drawing a magnificent and embarrassing blank. "I... I don't know, I've never... you know I've never..."

"Steve," Bucky said gently, "c'mon. You've been on dates. You told me you have."

"Dates, yeah, but I haven't... done... anything," Steve admitted uncomfortably, unable to help but feel a little embarrassed.

Bucky furrowed his brows in immense confusion. " _Why not_?"

"I don't know, it just... never felt right," Steve shrugged, wishing they'd stop talking about it and go back to what they were doing before.

"... But this does?"

Steve paused, knowing the answer without having to think on it much. He just _knew_. "Yeah," he replied quietly. "It does. I guess because I trust you."

Bucky's expression softened, his eyes giving away what it meant to have Steve's full and unconditional trust when he didn't even trust himself. His hand moved to the back of Steve's neck and he pulled him in again, kissing him softly and deeply and making them both lose their breath.

... He could do this all night and be perfectly happy, Steve was sure of it. And for awhile that was all they did, kiss and touch and breathe and sigh, getting lost in the simplicity and comfort of it all. Bucky kissed him like he was trying to seduce him, sometimes wandering to his jaw and his neck, doing things with his lips and tongue that made Steve's entire body shiver with delight, and Steve was starting to understand why all the girls had always liked Bucky so much. They were only _kissing_ and his heart was already beating out of his chest.

But Steve managed to at least stay quiet until the first time he felt teeth. It was a slow, gentle nip at his earlobe and he hadn't been expecting it, so he couldn't help the shaky moan that came out of his mouth. The minute Bucky heard it, he pulled away and looked at Steve with a darker heat in his eyes than before and then pushed him down on his back, climbing over him and placing his arm on the bed next to Steve's head before kissing him long and hot, body pressed down against his and making Steve's head spin.

Steve liked all of this a _lot_. Slowly he was losing his ability to think, the pain and fear that had led them to all of this mostly forgotten as he let himself simply _feel_ , and there was a lot to feel. Bucky was rolling their hips together now and Steve was finally gaining some confidence with his hands, letting them roam up and down his back and then into his hair as their kisses grew almost sloppy. It was good, so _very very_ good but he wanted more and wasn't sure what to do about it. He still wasn't even sure _what_ he wanted, just that he wanted _more_.

After Bucky's lips fell to his neck again, Steve felt teeth once more, this time near his pulse point. He had the same reaction as the first time, moaning quietly and beyond his control, and this time Bucky murmured, "You like biting. So do I."

Steve opened his mouth to retort but fell short when Bucky dragged his teeth down to his collarbone, licking just beneath it and kissing before biting him again, soothing the spot with his tongue and then traveling lower, repeating the cycle until Steve was squirming and could hardly stand it. He reached his limit when Bucky reached his ribs, accidentally tickling him enough to make him gasp and jerk away. Bucky looked up and grinned, "Sorry."

"It's okay," Steve replied, looking down at Bucky and tucking a bit of rogue hair behind his ear. Something about looking down at him in that position with kiss-swollen lips made a _thought_ flash through Steve's mind, one that made him blush and twitch with a sudden rush of desire. Bucky must have felt it and known somehow because something changed in his eyes and then he was working his way back down, further and further until his body was between Steve's legs and he was tugging his pants down with one hand.

Steve felt like his entire body was about to combust. This was _crazy_ \- was Bucky seriously about to - "Bucky, you... you don't have to..."

"Shut up, Steve," Bucky replied, getting Steve's pants down far enough to free his length.

 _Oh God._ "But -"

Bucky looked up at him and held his gaze as he wrapped his hand around him, stroking soft and slow like it was completely natural, nothing to even think twice about. Steve forgot how to speak and Bucky couldn't help but grin. "Yeah?"

Steve wanted to call him a smug bastard but the words just wouldn't form. Instead he dropped his head back and all but bit his tongue to stay quiet, feeling stupid for being embarrassed of his own reactions but wanting to stay in control of at least _something_. But it felt entirely too good to be touched by someone else, so incredibly different and more exciting than if it were his own hand, and he was perfectly content to lay there and close his eyes and get lost in it, let Bucky work him up until it was too much and there was nothing left to do but...

That was what Steve expected. But when he felt the distinct, unmistakable warmth of a tongue experimentally flick against his tip, it was a jolt of shock and heat through his veins and his eyes shot open, followed by a barely-coherent noise that was meant to be a word of some kind but came out instead as a sort of strangled gasp.

He looked down at Bucky and Bucky looked up at him before a smile slowly broke across his lips and he started laughing. _Laughing_. The jerk was actually laughing.

And Steve really, _really_ hated him, because then he laughed too and _what was even happening_?

"I'm sorry," Bucky said, reining in the laughter and shaking his head. "It's just... I can honestly say I never thought I'd be in bed with you, sucking you off, but..."

Steve swallowed the whimper that nearly escaped his lips. "You don't have to."

"I know I don't have to," Bucky said, casually stroking his hand up and down a few more times, "but it's about time somebody did."

 _Oh God_. "But -"

"Steve," Bucky said, shifting to get more comfortable and giving him a playful half-glare, "shut up and let me fucking do this."

Steve swallowed hard, relenting without another word. He didn't even have time to start worrying and overthinking because Bucky wasted no time, time being a precious thing they didn't have a lot of, and slowly took him into his mouth and gave Steve a new and _incredible_ experience.

It didn't matter that Bucky was a little clumsy at first and cautious and clearly inexperienced, because Steve was every bit the same things and every touch was a brand new and overwhelming sensory event. He kept his eyes closed and stopped trying to stay silent, the task proving impossible the deeper Bucky took him and the more confident he grew in his movements. Bucky would probably make some self-serving remark later about being a quick learner and Steve wouldn't even care because _God_ it was true, it was getting better by the second and he could barely stand it.

Out of instinct his hand drifted to Bucky's head, fingertips brushing his hair before retreating in uncertainty. But Bucky caught his hand and pulled it back to his hair with a quick glance upwards, and Steve curled his hand into a tight fist within those dark locks and let his head fall back once more, giving in and letting go of how surreal and strange this all was because more than anything it was _good_ , better than good and everything he hadn't known that he needed.

And as it all came to a head and he felt himself reach the breaking point, Steve couldn't stop his instant gut reaction to being so close to that precipice. He wanted more than anything to surrender and let go, but instead he started pulling on Bucky's hair and panting in almost a panic, " _Stop, stop_ , _Bucky, stop._ "

Bucky complied, pulling off and up with a slightly dazed look about him. "What?" he asked in confusion, tossing his hair back and out of his face, then working his jaw for a moment, like it was a bit stiff after the _performance_ he'd just given.

Steve sat up and slid a hand behind his head, pulling him close and replying softly, "I don't want this to be over yet."

Bucky stared back at him for only a moment before they were kissing again, everything fading into a pleasant blur despite the way that inevitability loomed over them both. No matter what, this _would_ come to an end and Steve would be right back where he began, mere hours away from saying goodbye to Bucky yet again. But until then, he was gonna make this last for as long as he could.

He laid Bucky down on the bed, head hitting the pillows softly and eyes meeting his as Steve stretched over him. Bucky's arm slid to his back and pulled him down, bringing some of Steve's weight with him, and then Steve kissed him hard enough to surprise _himself_. Bucky didn't seem to mind, however, kissing him back and moving his hand lower, pushing down so their hips collided and pressed together. Bucky groaned and pushed up against him, and Steve couldn't help but push back until they were building a rhythm together, much like their first unexpected encounter a week before.

But Steve wanted more than that this time, and Bucky sure as hell deserved more after what he'd already done for Steve. So Steve reached between them and tried to do away with Bucky's pants one handedly, then became frustrated and broke their kiss to pull away just long enough to get rid of the damn things, then dove back down and immediately captured his lips again. Bucky responded even more hungrily than before, groaning into the kiss before letting out a breathless moan against his lips when Steve's hand wrapped around him and gave a slow, cautious stroke.

Bucky's eyes met Steve's again as they shared the same ragged, shallow breaths, Steve moving his hand up and down and Bucky slowly letting his eyes drift shut in relief and pleasure. Steve reveled in watching him, and knowing that each sigh and furrow of his brows and tremble was because of Steve and what he was doing... it did _something_ to him. He wanted to see more, hear more, watch Bucky fall apart underneath him from his touch, feel that sense of satisfaction that might even eclipse that of his own pleasure, and _holy hell he never would have expected all of it to be this good_.

But it really, _really_ was.

Steve's lips were tracing along Bucky's collarbone when Bucky out a rough curse and sunk his nails into Steve's back. Steve instantly groaned and, overcome by _something_ in that moment, _bit down_ and earned a quiet yelp of a moan from Bucky.

" _Fucking hell_ ," Bucky groaned, and Steve chuckled and lifted his head to look down at him.

"You _said_ you like biting," Steve shrugged, a glint of mischief in his heated eyes.

"Yeah, I fucking do," Bucky replied, his hand suddenly moving and disappearing in the negligible space between them, looking Steve in the eye as he took him in his hand and started stroking him back. Steve shuddered and dropped his head back down, breathing against Bucky's jaw and groaning softly, closing his eyes and relishing the pleasure as they started moving in the same rhythm, gradually moving faster and faster with each passing moment.

He wanted to keep dragging it out, he truly did but he just couldn't do it anymore. It was all too good, the shared heat between them too consuming, too satisfying, too _real,_ and he was lost in it until Bucky's voice stirred him back to the present.

"Steve," Bucky murmured, just on the verge of erratic in his breaths and movements. " _Steve_."

Steve lifted his head and looked down at Bucky, wanting to ask what he needed but finding that his voice wasn't quite working in that moment.

"Kiss me," Bucky all but pled, unable to just pull Steve's lips to his with his only hand otherwise occupied.

Steve's eyes flashed and then he complied, kissing him long and hard and _hot_ and without restraint, and he was pleased to find that Bucky's finesse was all but gone. He was all sheer need, purely desire and instinct, and when his jaw went slack and he let out a shudder of a gasp against Steve's lips, his entire body tensing before shaking and spilling over Steve's hand. It was such a lovely, filthy sight, one Steve wouldn't forget, and he buried his face in Bucky's neck one last time as he finally gave in and reached his own mind-blowing end.

For what felt like ages, Steve was lost in a pleasant and dreamy haze that he would later wish had lasted even longer than it did. It was peaceful and warm, comforting and familiar and everything life rarely ever was. He was lying on top of his best friend, nose brushing the base of his throat and legs tangled together, both of them a damn mess and the bed more so, but it was the best kind of mess, Steve thought.

Steve didn't want to move and Bucky made no indication that he objected, so he stayed exactly where he was and savored every last bit of it. He listened to Bucky's breathing slowly regulate back to normal, closing his eyes when he felt a hand slide softly up his back, fingers tripping along his spine and eventually settling for his hair. Bucky sweetly and idly ran his fingers soothingly through Steve's hair, just as Steve imagined he'd done to plenty of sleepy and satisfied girls back in his day, and the thought of being the one to receive such touches now almost made him chuckle.

But he couldn't laugh because reality was back, and with it those terrible things he could no longer avoid.

His voice was rough and low when he finally spoke. "There's nothing I can do to change your mind, is there?"

Bucky waited a little bit to answer, though Steve knew exactly what he was gonna say. "No, Steve."

As much as he had expected it, it still felt like another knife to the heart. Steve nodded and moved to turn away and finally stop using Bucky as a giant body pillow, but the minute he tried, Bucky's arm tightened around him and prevented him from going anywhere.

"Stay," Bucky said softly, more of a plea than a demand. Steve was surprised, but he didn't dare squander such an opportunity. He stayed right where he was and, when Bucky haphazardly grabbed at one of the sheets and tossed it over them, snuggled in more closely and without an ounce of shame. He needed this, and he had a feeling Bucky needed it even more.

In the quiet of the night - or very early morning, as it happened to be at that point - Steve could hear nothing but the sound of their breathing, making his next words seem strangely loud even though he spoke them barely above a whisper. "I'm gonna miss you."

"I'm gonna miss you too," Bucky replied quietly. Steve couldn't be sure, but he thought Bucky might have pressed a feather-soft kiss into his hair before he added, "Don't do anything stupid while I'm under."

Steve huffed softly. "How can I? Taking all the stupid with you. As usual."

"I mean it," Bucky replied. "Just go lay low somewhere for awhile. Relax, watch stupid movies or something. Grow a beard. Get your head on straight."

Steve nodded, closing his eyes. "Yeah. I'll try."

There was a lot more to say on both of their parts and a lot more to talk about, they both knew it, but it would have to wait until later. The day was breaking outside their windows and sleep was pulling at their eyes, stealing their last few hours together away, and there was nothing they could do about it. Soon they would part ways again for God only knew how long, and Steve would be without a piece of himself again, but if nothing else... he was used to it. He would live. He'd survive. They would see each other again, hopefully in a better and more peaceful time than their reunions tended to take place within.

But for then, he slept. It was the last time he would sleep well for a long time and he knew it. It was bittersweet but he was grateful for the pain-tinged comfort, the good and the bad and the sweetness and the grief, because all of it was far, far better than feeling nothing at all.

And _that_ \- the numb, lukewarm, seemingly endless _nothing_ \- was what would take Bucky's place once he was gone. He dreaded it with every ounce of his being, but he wanted Bucky to be healthy and whole more than he wanted to be happy. And Bucky having the freedom to choose for himself was even more crucial. _That_ was most important.

Until then... Steve would wait. He would wait as long as it took.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: SO YEAH TURNS OUT THIS ISNT FINISHED AFTER ALL AHAHAA. The Russos confirming that the hug we got in IW wasn't Steve and Bucky's first post-CW reunion sent my brain into overdrive and now here we are. There will be 3 more parts after this and I regret nothing. I wanted to rename the story here or break it up so that I could give the chapters from this point on a different name but for the sake of ease on this particular site, I'm just dumping it all here. But for the record,** _ **Heaven**_ **is what I wanted to call this from this particular point forward. But whatever lol**

 **MY ALWAYS UNDYING THANKS to Midnightwings96 and MorningGlory2 for their irreplaceable help and feedback and support, I love you both to the moon and back, and to you beautiful readers I reeeeaaaalllly hope you guys like this. I love you all and will see you soon! (Next chapter of TDDUP is also in progress! Good stuff coming! I hope good anyway lol)**

He got the message late at night, after another secret mission that hadn't gone quite as planned. Holed up in a cheap inn on the outskirts of a town whose name he barely remembered in a corner of the earth he'd previously never set foot in, Steve was busy wincing as Natasha cleaned a wound on the back of his shoulder when the distinct chirp of one of several phones lying nearby made them both pause and look up.

"Which one's that?" Natasha asked curiously, dropping a handful of gauze into a small bin next to the bed they were sitting on.

Steve's hand darted out and seized the phone, his heart leaping into his throat as he quickly opened the new message. "T'Challa."

Behind him, Natasha smiled to herself and looked down, not needing to see his face to know exactly what it looked like in that exact moment. She knew full well that Steve had been waiting for this message for some time, ever since she had joined him on these covert missions a few months back, and she was happy for him that it had finally come. He deserved it.

She pressed a clean bandage to his shoulder wound and asked lightly, "Good news?"

"Yeah," he replied quietly, his growing smile audible in his tone. "Bucky's... they did it. He's awake, he's..."

Natasha closed the first aid kit and set it aside, giving Steve a pat on his back where he wasn't bruised as she slipped to her feet. He smiled up at her as she walked by, and it struck her that it was the first time she'd seen him truly smile in ages. _How about that._ She smiled back and murmured, "Guess that means you've got somewhere to be."

Next to them, on the other small bed, Sam grumbled against the mattress his face was pressed to. "Steve gets a luxury vacation to Wakanda and we get more roach motels. I see how it is."

"We'll be fine," Nat told Steve with a roll of her eyes. "You should go. We'll let you know when we get a location on the next target."

Steve smiled at her gratefully, a spark of hope lighting up his blue eyes as Sam rolled over and flung an arm over his eyes.

"Tell Tin Man I said hi and to kiss my ass," Sam muttered. "Probably kicking back in the palace right now, that greasy haired son of a b-"

"Hey now," Natasha playfully interrupted. "Maybe we'll get to hitch a ride next time around."

"Of course," Steve nodded. "Thank you. Both of you."

Sam gave a weary salute and Natasha smiled, heading towards the bathroom for a much needed shower. "I look forward to hearing all about the dramatic reunion."

Excitement raced through Steve's veins and he grinned down at the phone in his hands as he quickly typed a response back to his friend. He never thought that this would have happened so fast, and in fact, in some of his lower moments, he had feared it would never happen at all. That there would be no cure and no fix for the programming that Bucky had endured and retained from Hydra, that he would either have to stay in stasis or live in fear for the rest of his days. But thanks to what he now knew beyond a single doubt was the most brilliant mind in all the world... now those fears were gone.

On the other side of the world, safe and sound within the most secure borders on earth, Bucky was awake and alive and no longer a danger to himself or others. And within the next 24 hours, Steve would be there with him.

He couldn't wait.

* * *

"I can't thank you enough for all of this," Steve told T'Challa as he followed the king down a hill, towards the reason behind his unexpected visit to Wakanda. The air was warm and humid and clean, cleaner than any that Steve had ever breathed before, and just the environment alone was enough to put his so often-frayed nerves at ease. "Knowing that he was here and safe in good hands... I owe you."

T'Challa shrugged him off as he continued to lead Steve along down the path through the hills. "Your friend, he says the same things. I offered him his choice of living arrangements, even the palace if it would give him peace of mind as he recovers, but he refused."

"He's always been stubborn," Steve replied with a faint smile. "What'd he end up agreeing to?"

"This," T'Challa replied, gesturing to a portion of land down at the bottom of the hill and now within sight. Steve took it in as T'Challa explained, "He said he wanted to work for his place among us, pull his own weight. The owner of this land recently passed with no children to leave it to. He is learning how to care for it."

Steve's brows inched up as he noted the goats that were grazing on the land surrounding the humble little hut, snacking on hay that came from nearby bales and enjoying the sunshine. "Bucky's learning how to _farm_?"

T'Challa smiled at Steve's slightly flummoxed reaction. "I'm told he has very good teachers. In fact," he pointed to a neighboring property where three children were running about and playing and engaging in what appeared to be a mock sword fight, "I believe they are the ones showing him."

Steve huffed out a laugh. So Bucky was living on a farm, learning from neighboring children how to care for the animals and the land and taking an entirely new approach to life and work. It wasn't what Steve expected but he liked it, liked the idea of Bucky taking on something like that and hopefully finding some purpose and fulfillment in it. It was so much better than what he'd had in Romania, so much better than what Steve had feared his life would be like until T'Challa had stepped in and offered a place of refuge and healing. He wasn't sure that he'd ever been more grateful to any other person than he was to T'Challa. It was a debt he'd never be able to truly repay.

Once they arrived on the little farm, the kids noticed the two visitors and dropped their sword-sticks and came running. T'Challa chuckled and greeted them with hugs and words spoken in Xhosa while Steve offered them a smile and a wave in lieu of any English greetings, assuming they wouldn't understand. But his assumption was proven wrong when the smallest little boy peered up at him and asked, "Who are you?"

"This is a guest of ours, just like your new friend," T'Challa replied, a tilt of his head gesturing to Bucky's hut.

The child glanced at the hut and then back to Steve. "You are the White Wolf's friend?"

 _White Wolf_? Steve thought with slight confusion before glancing at T'Challa, who merely shrugged. Going with the flow, he nodded to the kid and held out his hand. "Yeah. I'm Steve Rogers."

The boy looked at his hand for a moment and then grabbed it, turning it upright with his palm facing out. Steve expected some kind of unique greeting, an alternative to the handshake that he offered, but instead the kid just gave him an exuberant high five and then dissolved into laughter at Steve's surprised expression. The kid then ran off with the others, the three of them deep in chatter, and T'Challa laughed at Steve's slightly bewildered face.

"They are discussing what name to give _you_ ," T'Challa explained to Steve, resuming their walk to Bucky's new residence. "They take this very seriously."

Steve was on the verge of asking about the wolf nickname but then his eyes caught movement from just behind the hut and he forgot about everything else but the figure slowly coming their way, growing more visible with each step. Steve didn't realize how much his own steps slowed down but T'Challa did, glancing curiously at him as Bucky came into view.

He was dressed light and casually in dark pants and a light tunic style shirt, open at the top with the sleeves ripped off, or at least the visible one on the right. His left was obscured by a dark blue scarf tied around his neck that draped over his shoulder and what was left of his arm. His hair was still long, a little longer than Steve remembered, half of it pulled back and out of his face, and in his right hand was a bucket of water that was carrying on his way back towards the goats. He stopped dead in his tracks the moment he glanced up and saw Steve and T'Challa standing there.

Steve didn't stop walking. In fact, his steps picked up and a smile broke across his face as he watched Bucky first blink, then blink again, then finally start smiling himself as he set down the water bucket and started moving again. Steve was only vaguely aware of T'Challa falling a bit behind on purpose, letting them have their moment as they closed the distance between them and Bucky grinned, "Well... I wasn't expecting _this_ today."

Steve grinned back and reached out and pulled Bucky in, hugging him close and tight and instantly feeling more whole than he had in months, ever since he'd left Bucky there and watched him go back into cryo. Ever since the night before that when he had woken up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and Bucky had comforted him and...

He held Bucky a little tighter, nose buried in his hair and the embrace lasting entirely too long but he didn't care. Bucky didn't seem to mind either, holding him just as closely and resting his chin on Steve's shoulder as Steve murmured near his ear, " _God_ I'm glad to see you."

"Me too," Bucky replied quietly, glancing up and noticing T'Challa watching. Bucky mouthed his thanks to him and T'Challa nodded, and it was only a few seconds later that Steve seemed to catch himself and slowly pull away from the lingering embrace.

"You look good," Steve said, his words and tone casual but a prickle of anxiety making itself known once he'd said it. He knew it was silly - nothing between them had changed, but he couldn't help but be more aware of himself now, after the way they'd parted last time.

Bucky scoffed, glancing down at his clothes. "I'm a mess." Then he glanced up at Steve and grinned. "You really did grow a beard, huh?"

Steve shrugged, smile lingering and eyes falling to the ground for just a moment. "Thought I'd give it a try."

"Looks good on you," Bucky nodded, eyes sweeping from the beard to Steve's blue eyes a few times. "Didn't think you _could_ grow one."

Steve tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes as if to say _hey_ , and behind them T'Challa cleared his throat before saying, "I'll let you two catch up. If either of you need anything," he began to turn to leave, "my door is open."

"Thank you," Steve nodded, gratefulness evident in his eyes and his tone. T'Challa nodded back and began walking back up the hill, and now that they were alone, Steve turned back to Bucky and smiled. "So. You're a farmer now."

Bucky shook his head, pushing his hair behind his ears and glancing towards the goats as he replied, "I'm trying to get the hang of it. Don't wanna screw it up."

"Looks like you're doing pretty good," Steve replied, looking around. "Is it relaxing? Seems like it might be."

"Yeah," Bucky smiled, remembering what he'd been doing before Steve had shown up and taking a few steps back to retrieve the water bucket. "Definitely better than any job I've had in the last 70 years."

Steve nodded and smiled back, hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans as he followed just behind Bucky. "It's beautiful here."

"Yeah," Bucky agreed, squinting up towards the warm sun as a squawking bird flew overheard towards the thicket of trees to the right of the farm. "Never seen any place like this before. And the people," he glanced towards the kids across the way, back to waging mock war, "I know I don't deserve it but they're so fucking nice and generous. Don't know what to do with myself half the time."

"You do deserve it," Steve told him. Bucky looked at him in a slightly weary, mostly affectionate sort of way, like he'd never quite believe him but was maybe ready to accept his ridiculous sentiments and stop arguing with them. Then he turned back to the task at hand, stepping amongst the noisy and apparently friendly goats as he refilled their water for them.

One goat, the smallest one of the bunch and a light tan color, bumped its little head into Bucky's head until he gave it a pet, muttering, "Yeah, yeah, you dumb fucker, I hear you. Fucking brat."

Steve leaned against the fencing and chuckled. "Is that his name?"

"Pretty much," Bucky nodded over his shoulder, still patting the little guy. "He's stupid and constantly trying to get himself killed. But he's real sweet and pretty cute, so... he's my favorite." Bucky shot Steve a funny little smile and it suddenly dawned on Steve that Bucky was comparing him to a goat. An apparently quite dumb but adorable little runt of a goat.

Steve was pretty sure that he should have been offended, but all it did was make him feel even warmer inside. He grinned back and then Bucky got back to work, walking to the other end of the fenced area to grab more hay.

Bucky seemed so at ease, so relaxed, so much healthier and more whole than Steve remembered. Having control of his mind and confidence within it had worked wonders for him, without a doubt. And it looked incredible on him.

When Bucky came back around, his animals taken care of for the time being, he started walking towards the hut and Steve fell into step at his side. "So what was it like?" Steve asked gently. "Waking up and... Shuri doing whatever she did to fix you."

Bucky hesitated only for a few seconds before replying quietly, "Well... it was... a lot different from all the other times I woke up. This time I woke up warm in a bed instead of being picked up and dragged off to..." He trailed off and Steve didn't press him to finish, didn't want him to relive things that were best left in the past. "This time it was okay. Felt okay. And the procedure sounded scary as hell when she explained it but I didn't feel any of it. And it was fast, too. I don't know how she did it."

"She's amazing," Steve agreed, wondering if Shuri would start disliking him if he hugged her any more than he already had. Before T'Challa had led him to the farm, Steve had met them at the palace and had already squeezed the life out of the princess in an attempt to convey how very grateful he was to her. She had laughed and pushed him off after it began to get ridiculous, telling him to stop before her lungs collapsed.

"And she's just a kid," Bucky marveled. "Guess she was just born a genius."

"Well, I'm glad she was," Steve smiled at him. Bucky's steps came to a halt and he pulled open the hut's door, Steve only then realizing that they'd arrived there.

Steve stepped inside first after Bucky gestured for him to do so, ducking down to avoid knocking his head on the low doorframe. That warm sensation in his chest that he'd been feeling ever since he had arrived in Wakanda only grew as he looked around the small but cozy little room that Bucky was calling home, and it took him a moment to realize why.

Unlike Bucky's apartment in Romania, this place wasn't arranged tactically in case of attack from authorities or other possible threats. It was tiny to be sure but it was warm and it had everything Bucky needed, a bed and a little corner he could cook in and stacks of books on the floor and a small bureau he was willing to bet clothes were in. It was humble but Bucky seemed to like it that way, the little space looking and _feeling_ like the Bucky Steve remembered.

"You want something to drink, or..."

Steve looked up when Bucky trailed off. He looked concerned for some reason, and Steve didn't know why until he blinked and felt something wet on his cheek.

"Steve, are you... are you crying?"

He quickly wiped at his face, feeling absolutely ridiculous and a little embarrassed but _God_ he couldn't help it. He had been so worried for so long, keeping everything he felt locked away and pushed as far down as it would go so he wouldn't crack, but now... now he was hopeless to hold any of it back.

"I just... I thought... I thought the worst this whole time," Steve admitted, looking anywhere but at Bucky. "I knew you were safe but I had no idea how long this would take, or if Shuri's idea would even work, and the thought of you being stuck like that for God knows how long -"

"Hey," Bucky interrupted gently, stepping forward and pulling Steve into another hug that he hadn't realized he needed. "It's okay. I'm okay. I really am."

"I know," Steve murmured, holding him even closer and tighter than he'd allowed himself the first time. One hand curled into a fist around the back of Bucky's shirt and the other rested on the back of his head as he added, "I guess that's why I'm kinda losing it."

"You old sap," Bucky teased, breath tickling Steve's neck as he spoke those words. Steve laughed, the motion hiding his shiver. "I'm glad you came. Wasn't expecting this."

"Me either," Steve sighed, fingers threading through Bucky's hair of their own accord, conscious thought playing no role in it. He breathed him in, the whole world slowing down for that moment and ceasing to exist for a little while. They were alone and nobody was watching and he didn't have to be strong or even think at all. This was where he'd always be the most comfortable and at home, and it had nothing to do with the ground beneath their feet or the geographical location of their safe haven.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, his brain turning a bit fuzzy by that point, but he did notice when Bucky's hand moved from the middle of his back up his spine to the back of his neck. His fingertips brushing against his skin made goosebumps break out under his clothes, made even worse when Bucky let out a soft sigh against his neck and began to draw back far enough to look at him.

When Steve's eyes met his he instantly felt the change in the room, between them, recognized it from the last time they'd been that close. It made his heart start slamming in his chest just the same as before, that nervous but incredible thrill sending his senses into overdrive and making his stomach flip as they stared at each other. Bucky's hand slid to the side of Steve's neck, resting there as his thumb pressed softly to his pulse point as it fluttered wildly.

Steve felt the flush that crept up on his cheeks as Bucky felt firsthand just how affected he was. He watched Bucky exhale in realization, licking his lips before murmuring, "God, Steve..."

"I'm sorry," Steve all but whispered, more than a little embarrassed. "I just -"

"No," Bucky shook his head, hand dropping down to grab one of Steve's and place it on his chest, over his shirt, where his heart was beating just as hard. He looked Steve in the eye as he made sure Steve felt how mutual it all was, the tension and desire that was still new but not as surprising now as it had been at first. "It's... I feel it too."

Embarrassment fading away now that he knew he wasn't alone, Steve let his eyes drift from Bucky's chest to his lips and finally his eyes, wondering in the back of his mind how and why this was happening and why it felt so incredibly right, as easy as breathing. But he'd think about that later - maybe - and for now, he'd focus on something much better and much sweeter.

They started moving at the same time, slowly and carefully, leaning in close until Steve could feel Bucky's breath on his lips. He only hesitated for two beats of his heart before he closed the distance and brushed their lips together in a gentle kiss. It wasn't timid, wasn't experimental because they were past that by that point. But it was soft and sweet because despite their previous encounters, this was still new for them and they didn't want to screw up a single moment of whatever this was between them.

The kiss lingered, Steve's hand staying where it was over Bucky's heart and Bucky reaching up to cup his jaw and keep him close. Then they kissed again and again, deeper and sweeter until Steve had to pull away to suck in a gulp of air. But he didn't go far, leaning his forehead against Bucky's and admitting with a breathless smile, " _God_ I've missed you, Buck."

"I can tell," Bucky chuckled, hand sliding into Steve's hair, a bit longer than usual these days. "Missed you too."

Steve let his eyes fall shut, breathing through parted lips and only opening his eyes when he felt Bucky tug down the zipper of the hoodie he was wearing. He didn't know why he even had it on, the weather entirely too hot for such attire, but he was glad for it because it allowed him to watch Bucky slowly unzip it and then slip his hand under each side, pushing it off of his shoulders until it hit the floor. Then he looked up at Steve and suddenly they were kissing again, deeper and harder and passionate, and Bucky was grasping the front of Steve's t-shirt and walking them backwards towards his bed.

It was a short walk but they managed to shed more clothes on the way, Steve untying the scarf draped over Bucky's left arm and letting it fall while Bucky pushed up Steve's shirt and made an impatient noise against Steve's mouth that Steve had no trouble interpreting. He broke away and pulled off his shirt just as they reached the bed, and Bucky wasted no time in grasping him by his hair and turning them around, steering Steve to sit down on the edge of the bed while he stood between Steve's legs. Something about that, about looking up and watching Bucky one-handedly do away with his own shirt made it suddenly dawn on Steve just what they were doing and how badly he wanted it with everything in him.

He reached for Bucky with both hands and pulled until he was sitting on his lap, Bucky's arm around his shoulders and eyes on Steve's as he ran his hands up Bucky's sides. It struck Steve just then that this was the first time they'd done this in the daylight, sunshine streaming in from the windows and letting him see Bucky in a warmer, brighter light this time. It allowed him to see details he hadn't last time, which in turn made him want to see more, want to learn him and -

A furious kiss from Bucky cut off his thoughts, rendering Steve useless and able only to kiss him back mindlessly and clutch at his waist with tense fingers. Bucky wasn't playing shy, wasn't holding back and even started pushing him down towards the bed after he let out a low moan at something Bucky did with his tongue. But something in Steve sprang back to life before his back could hit the mattress and, to his own surprise, he flipped them over and laid Bucky down underneath him before Bucky could protest.

But he wouldn't have protested anyway, judging by the way he grinned up at Steve at the change in position and brushed his fingertips against his jaw, through the impressive beard there. "Getting the hang of this, huh?"

"Shut up," Steve playfully shot back, dipping his head down to steal another kiss.

Bucky hummed against his lips, fingers sliding into his hair as he murmured, "It was a compliment, you punk."

Steve couldn't help but smile at that, unable to remember the last time Bucky had called him that. He brushed a stray lock of hair out of Bucky's face and found himself wishing they could stay like this, just like this, in their own little world and in each other's arms and the rest of the world so far away it barely existed anymore.

Steve leaned down and nuzzled Bucky's scruffy jaw, enjoying the rough feeling of it and dragging his lips down until they were on Bucky's neck, searching for a spot that Steve remembered from the last time he'd kissed him like this. It didn't take him long before he found it, Bucky's telltale shudder betraying him once he did, and Steve couldn't help but wreak havoc on him. He licked and sucked and tortured Bucky, making him squirm and gasp until he was satisfied with his work and pulled away to admire the dark little bruise that now painted his skin. Then Steve paused and grinned, noticing how red the skin surrounded the bruise was thanks to his beard.

Marking him like that and seeing his skin all bruised and red and angry in the wake of his mouth did something to Steve, made something stir within that he wasn't quite familiar with. Bucky saw it when their eyes met again, saw the sudden dark hunger in Steve's eyes and felt himself twitch in his pants in response, voice low and rough as he murmured, "Don't hold back, Steve. You can do whatever the fuck you want to me."

Those unexpected words made Steve's brain short circuit, all the breath leaving his lungs in one sudden rush as he repeated barely above a whisper, "Anything?"

Bucky nodded, hand pushing down on Steve's lower back and hips thrusting up gently against his, looking for friction and finding not nearly enough but still enough to make their breaths hitch. "I trust you." He leaned up and kissed Steve slowly and added against his lips, "Want you."

Steve couldn't comprehend what he was hearing, could hardly believe it and most definitely didn't know what the hell to do with it. He wasn't stupid or naive and he was pretty sure he knew where both of their heads were in the wake of such words but he wasn't ready for _that_ yet, and despite Bucky's words, Steve was pretty sure he wasn't either. But what they did or didn't do next wasn't the point - the point was the full and complete trust between them, something Steve was starting to think they'd only ever share with each other. He couldn't imagine ever feeling safer or more at home with anyone else, and while he couldn't be sure... he suspected that feeling was even stronger on Bucky's part, after all he'd been through.

"Want you too," Steve murmured back before stealing another kiss. His cheeks flushed hot as he admitted in a whisper, "Think about this way too much."

Bucky chuckled, fingers slipping through Steve's hair and eyes closed as he grinned, "Guess I left an impression."

Steve simply moaned quietly in response, partially because of the way their still-clothed hips were moving languidly together and also because Bucky had left even more of an impression than he could have known. It had been months ago but Steve could still feel his touch, his lips, the heat of his mouth engulfing him, his hardness rubbing against his own and spilling hot into his hand, all of it leaving what Steve sometimes felt was a visible, tangible mark upon him. And this, being with him like this now, was only driving that mark even deeper and more significant, leaving no room for anything or anyone else.

He liked it that way. He might have even loved it.

"I think about it too," Bucky confessed quietly, Steve's eyes opening and flying to his as they rocked together and hands slid all over each other. "Every night."

Steve could hardly take it, barely contain what those words did to him. "Yeah?"

Bucky nodded, their lips colliding in a sloppy kiss before he murmured, "Can't get you outta my fuckin' head, Steve."

Steve faltered then, nearly losing his footing as he stared down at Bucky in wonder and heat and surprise. But Bucky had just enough control left to reach between them and start undoing their pants, incredibly proficient with just his one hand, and after a moment Steve helped him and got their pants down enough to free them both and get the kind of skin to skin contact that he knew would make them both lose their minds way too quickly. But that was okay - this time, they had time to spare and could make up for it later.

Bucky cursed low and rough the moment they started working up a rhythm, bodies slick with sweat and tense with building need and desire, Bucky's hand curled around Steve's bare hip and fingers likely bruising his skin with how tight his grip was. Steve couldn't stop kissing him, groaning low and breathless into his mouth and feeling his entire body pulse with pleasure, on the edge of a earth-shaking release within what seemed like mere seconds.

Still, he tried to hold back and focused on Bucky, on his own quiet moans and the way his eyes were closed and brows knitted with pleasure, lips parted and unfairly gorgeous as he sucked in ragged, increasingly rough breaths between kisses. The picture he painted drove Steve to the brink and when he could take no more, he leaned his forehead against Bucky's and whispered, "I'm - I can't hold off anymore, Buck, I'm gonna -"

"S'okay," Bucky assured him, hand moving to the back of Steve's head to hold him there. "I want you to. Want you to come all over me."

Steve nearly did, from those words alone. " _God, Bucky_..."

"I'm right behind you," Bucky groaned shakily. "You feel so fucking good, Steve. _So fucking good_ , _just_..."

Bucky's words became a broken moan and Steve watched as he shuddered and fell into bliss first, eyes closing and mouth falling open and warmth spreading across their skin, and Steve couldn't have held out any longer if he'd wanted to. He followed Bucky over the edge and gave him what he wanted, making a mess all over him and feeling the kind of life-changing, mind-blowing pleasure he could never feel on his own and maybe even never with anyone else. He couldn't know for sure and the thing was... he didn't _want_ to know. _This_... whatever it was, it was more than enough for him. Bucky was enough.

They laid there for awhile after, Steve breathing slow and warm against Bucky's neck as they savored the quiet aftermath. Steve didn't want to move, possibly not ever, but he knew they couldn't stay like that forever. He pressed a kiss to the space between Bucky's neck and shoulder, lingering there and breathing him in before lifting his head and meeting Bucky's sated, slightly sleepy gaze.

"You okay?" Steve asked, pretty sure he knew the answer but wanting to hear it for himself.

Bucky grinned and sighed, leaning his head back. "I'm so much better than okay, Steve, you don't even know."

"I might," Steve chuckled, pressing one more kiss to Bucky's jaw before forcing himself to stop. "Do you have a towel, or a -"

Bucky pointed towards the little bureau across the room, and Steve let himself steal one more little kiss before slipping out of the bed. When he returned and took it upon himself to clean Bucky up, not thinking twice about it, he glanced up after and realized Bucky had been watching him the whole time with a curious sort of look on his face.

"What?" Steve asked, pausing and smiling a little, wondering what he'd done this time.

Bucky smiled back and shook his head. "Nothin'. Just..."

"Just what?" Steve pressed gently.

Bucky seemed to think for moment, ultimately shaking his head again but never losing his smile. "Nothin'."

Steve gave him a pointed look, setting the towel aside and lying on his side next to him, head propped on his hand and eyes never leaving Bucky as he finally gave voice to something he'd been wanting to ever since Siberia. "We gotta talk about all this, Buck."

Bucky, stretched out on the bed and still very exposed thanks to how he'd never bothered to pull up his pants, merely shrugged. "I'm listening."

"... What are we doing?" Steve asked, no longer able to hold that particular question back even if he'd wanted to.

Bucky stared at Steve for a moment before blinking and opening his mouth, hesitating before actually forming words. "I... how... how do you want me to answer that?"

This was exactly why they needed to talk, Steve thought - being on the same page and knowing it seemed absolutely essential. "Just want you to be honest," he replied quietly. "Wanna know what this is. How it happened. Why it keeps happening."

Bucky's gaze lingered on Steve for a moment before he nodded, rolling on his side to face him fully. "All right. Wanna know what I think?"

Steve nodded, heart rate picking up with anxiety as he listened, laying his head down on his arm.

"I think," Bucky murmured, tracing his fingertips along Steve's hand, grazing his knuckles, "that this... probably never would have happened if we hadn't ended up like this. If we had gotten to come home from the war... you probably would have married Carter. I would have found someone too, hopefully. We would have had kids, they would have grown up together..." Bucky smiled fondly at the idea, gaze on their hands while Steve's never strayed from his eyes. "We would have been old men playing bingo at the senior center every Tuesday."

Steve smiled at that idea, finding it hard to believe that it had ever been a real possibility for them, that their lives could have ever turned out so... _normal_. "Never been a big fan of bingo."

"You would have gone with me anyway," Bucky pointed out, eyes meeting Steve's with a playful glint.

"... Beside the point," Steve shrugged, smiling back.

Bucky grinned, eyes falling back to their hands as Steve shifted his and gently entwined their fingers. The little smile soon faded, however. "But since we didn't get any of that... and we ended up _here_ instead... it changed things. That's the way I see it, anyway."

Brows furrowed, Steve was pretty sure he agreed with that assessment, but... "Is that normal?" At Bucky's confused, questioning look, Steve added, "To... for people... for _us_ to... change like that? Change _that_ much?"

"... How the hell should I know?" Bucky asked with a ghost of a laugh. "I don't know and I honestly don't care. I don't care what's normal and what isn't - nothing about you and me is normal, Steve."

"I know, I just..." Steve trailed off, trying to find the right words but coming up short.

"Hey," Bucky said gently, thumb gliding gently over the back of Steve's hand. "You don't have to overthink this."

"I'm not trying to," Steve replied with a sigh. "Just... can't help it, I guess."

"... Do you like this?" Bucky asked quietly, cutting to the heart of the matter and focusing it for Steve, bypassing all those noisy thoughts clouding his head. "Do you enjoy it? Feel better after? Think about it more than you should, just like you told me?"

Steve pretended that he didn't blush a little at those questions, ignoring the burning in his cheeks and nodding in affirmation. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"So do I," Bucky replied. "And that's all that fucking matters. You and me. Not some stupid label that doesn't mean shit."

And suddenly, just like that, a weight was lifted from Steve's shoulders that he hadn't even been aware until it was gone. There was no pressure here, no expectations, nothing but love and comfort and closeness and affection, all built on a foundation of trust that hell itself couldn't shake if it tried.

They were far from free men, both of them two of the most wanted fugitives in the world, but here in their own little private paradise in a tucked away corner of Wakanda... they could be free. Whatever they needed, whatever they wanted, whatever it did or didn't mean - they could have it, and they didn't have to justify it or qualify it for anyone.

"Okay," Steve murmured, happy to accept Bucky's thought process and adopt it as his own.

Bucky cracked a little smile. "Yeah?"

Steve nodded. "You're right. As usual."

"Look at you, Steve," Bucky teased, "finally listening to me for once in your fucking life."

"Don't get used to it," Steve teased back, both of them smiling and, though they weren't quite sure how or who reached for who first, falling into another handful of sweet, lazy kisses that inevitably led to more and kept them in that small but warm and cozy bed for far longer than they'd intended. But that was okay, Steve decided. They both deserved it. More than deserved it.

And he didn't plan on leaving Bucky's bed any time soon.

* * *

Life in Wakanda was like some kind of dream, a surreally beautiful reality that seemed separate from the rest of existence in a way that had nothing to do with the nation's mostly closed borders. Steve could see why Bucky seemed to like it so much - he was falling in love with the place more and more with day he spent within it.

He and Bucky were invited to the palace for dinner each night that Steve was there, an open invitation that Steve planned on only partially accepting out of some ridiculous will not to impose, but T'Challa would hear nothing of it - they would be there each night, he decreed, and it wasn't a topic that was open for debate. Steve couldn't exactly argue with that, T'Challa being King of the whole damn place, after all.

And in the end Steve was glad for each night that they spent dining with the royal family and their friends. They were no stuffy, excruciatingly formal royal family, either - they laughed and they joked and they treated Steve and Bucky not like outsiders but like they'd been there forever and belonged in some strange, unexpected capacity.

Ramonda, the Queen Mother, was an elegant and fiercely intelligent woman with a wit as sharp as the spears wielded by the Dora Milaje. Her love for her country and her children was evident in not only her words and actions but the dignified manner that she carried herself, a Queen to her very core. Her strength was mirrored in her children, her courage and warmth in T'Challa and her intellect and wit in Shuri, both of whom Steve would always owe so very much to. Especially the princess.

Shuri was outspoken and often damn hilarious, sometimes teasing Bucky and giving him a hard time in a way that never failed to make him laugh and sometimes showing him holograms of new projects in her lab that utterly dazzled him. Sometimes they chatted throughout nearly the entire dinner, and Steve couldn't help but be reminded of being younger and smaller and sitting at much more humble dinner table, watching Bucky and his little sister Rebecca banter back and forth in a remarkably similar way.

It warmed Steve's heart to see Bucky thriving in such a welcoming, healing environment, and creating friendships with people who respected him and didn't see him as a killer or a potential threat to mankind. He was just _Bucky_ , a man who had lived too long and endured too much but was still somehow _so good_ in his heart despite all the horrors that he'd both experienced and inflicted. None of them treated him with pity and none of them questioned his place among them - T'Challa believed in him, and that was enough for most.

God only knew where Steve and Bucky would have been without him and without his sister, too.

And during the warm, sun-soaked mornings and afternoons, Steve kept busy with Bucky helping him around the farm where there was always something to tend to, something to fix or repair or replace, and always little mouths to feed. The neighbor children seemed to always be around, lending their help at times as well and gradually educating Bucky in how to care for the crops that he was trying to grow. They'd also drag Bucky into their play fights and divide into teams, arguing over who got him and who didn't, and the first few times Steve simply watched from the sidelines. But then the kids started dragging him into battle as well, and before he knew it he was laughing and playing and having fun and... he almost didn't recognize what he was feeling until much later that night, his 8th one there.

He was happy. He realized it long after Bucky had fallen asleep in his arms, safe and warm and, for that night at least, nightmare-free. It had been so long since he had been truly happy that he had forgotten what it felt like. But _this_... this was it.

It came as no surprise, then, that the call from Nat came the very next day. He knew he couldn't stay, no matter how badly he wished he could. It was just that 9 days wasn't enough.

Not nearly enough.

* * *

"I'm gonna miss this," Steve sighed, gazing up at the stars in the astonishingly clear night sky, lying next to Bucky underneath a blanket that just covered them both. They were away from the hut, away from the kids, away from any and all prying eyes on a hill that overlooked a sparkling river. Steve was leaving in the morning to lead Sam and Nat on another mission, and he didn't know when he would be able to come back. But he would do everything in his power to make sure that it was soon, he knew that much.

"Me too," Bucky murmured quietly, but his eyes weren't on the stars. Steve caught his gaze and Bucky only held it for a moment before smiling faintly and turning away, staring up at the sky and letting out a deep breath. "You stayed longer than I thought you would."

Steve wasn't sure how to take that, whether it should have made him as sad as it did. "I'd stay longer if I could, Buck. You know that."

"I know. S'all right," Bucky replied, and he meant it. He wasn't gonna cling or whine or beg Steve to stay - he wasn't like that. _They_ weren't like that. He knew that Steve, for better or worse, needed to fight to have purpose. He _could_ save people and therefore he _had_ to. He'd get restless if he stayed still for too long. Bucky was happy to be his escape from all of that, if Steve wished. And it seemed that he very much did.

"I'll come back as soon as I can," Steve assured him, shifting on his side to face him. As soon as he did Bucky did the same, like their movements were more synced than even they realized. "Assuming you want me to," he added with a grin.

"That's a tough one," Bucky sighed, pretending to contemplate the issue. "Let me think about that. Weigh the pros and the cons."

Steve chuckled through his nose. "Let me know how that pans out."

"... I guess I can work you into my busy schedule," Bucky shrugged. "If I've _gotta_."

"Well if I'm that much of an imposition I guess I can stay away," Steve grinned. "Maybe just fly to the Bahamas with Sam and Nat instead and just -"

"Shut up," Bucky chuckled, dropping the act and pulling Steve in for a kiss, hand sliding over the back of his neck to hold him close.

"You brought it up," Steve mumbled with a smile against his lips, and Bucky replied with an impatient grown and the gentle slide of his tongue between Steve's lips. It was a more than effective way to shush him up for good.

Each night thus far had ended up like this, with the two men entangled like lovers and getting caught up in the heat between them until they made messes of each other and lapsed into deep, mostly peaceful sleep. But knowing that this was the last time they'd get to do this for awhile fueled a mutual sense of urgency and it wasn't long until Bucky was pulling Steve on top of him, their kisses deep and passionate and bodies moving together so naturally it was hard to believe they'd never _not_ done these things.

"Steve," Bucky whispered between kisses, fingers tugging gently on his hair to still him. "Steve, I..."

"What?" Steve asked quietly, hand braced on the blanket next to Bucky's head while the other traced his cheekbone. "What's wrong?"

"... I just... I gotta say something and I'm not really sure how, but..." Bucky paused and licked his lips, taking a breath before saying what he needed to. "While we're doing this, whatever this is... I don't want you with anybody else."

Steve's brows furrowed, deep confusion clouding his features. "You don't... _what_?"

"If you meet some girl," Bucky quickly added, actually _blushing_ a little bit, "or you see that... Sharon again, whatever, I just... I don't wanna share you. I want you to be happy, but I -"

"Buck, what are you talking about?" Steve asked, more than a little flummoxed. "Share me? Why would I - you think I'd be with someone else while I'm with you?"

"No," Bucky shook his head, because he truly didn't. He knew full well Steve wasn't like that, but he also knew they were in uncharted territory. "But I'm just makin' sure you know, Steve."

"Know what?" Steve pressed, a bit desperate to follow this wherever it would lead, thinking it might clear up some of his lingering confusion over what they were becoming to one another.

Bucky's eyes fell to his lips, then back up to his eyes as his hand slowly slipped down Steve's chest. "That I don't want anybody else touching you while you're mine."

Something about that word and the way that he said it, _mine_ , made Steve lose his breath and eyes darken as they stared into Bucky's. They stayed like that, Steve opening his mouth to answer only to fall silent when Bucky's hand slid down over the front of his pants and rubbed over him, something distinctly firm and possessive in the touch. " _God_..."

"You like that?" Bucky asked lowly, quietly with a tiny grin, gripping him and squeezing gently, leaning up and kissing him as he did. "You like being mine, Steve?"

Steve let out a moan against his lips and rocked into his hand, stealing a hungry kiss before answering breathlessly, "As long as you're mine, too."

"Course I am," Bucky replied without hesitation, eyes lifting to search Steve's again. "You know I am."

Steve groaned low in his throat, Bucky's hand driving him crazy and his next words flew out before he could stop them. "Then say it."

"I'm yours, Steve," Bucky murmured, the words and tone of his voice making Steve shiver nearly as much as his hand slipping into his pants did. "All yours."

Steve didn't try to hide his reactions as Bucky worked him like that, stroking him the way he'd learned Steve liked it and making him moan and chase the heat and friction of his hand with increasingly desperate thrusts of his hips. "All... all mine?" Steve questioned barely above a whisper, trying to keep his wits about him but it wasn't easy. In fact, it was nearly impossible.

"Any way you want me," Bucky replied, punctuating those words with a strategic shift of his wrist and a deep kiss that made Steve's head spin. Then, forehead to forehead, Bucky added in a heated, dangerous tone, "I mean it, Steve. You can do anything you want to me."

Steve's eyes opened, their gazes connecting as Steve struggled to think straight amid the pleasure he was lost in. " _Buck_..."

Bucky watched his eyes roll shut, reveling in how easy it was to make the man see stars, how well he'd learned him over the short time they'd spent together like this. He kissed Steve's lips and then his cheekbone, kissing a trail towards his ear that Steve happily turned his head to allow, and once he got there Bucky murmured, "Want you to fuck me, Steve."

Steve's eyes flew open and he nearly toppled off of Bucky completely, his entire body jerking and pleasure spiking at the mere words. " _What did you -_ oh my God, _Bucky_ -"

Bucky shut him up with a swift, hard kiss. "I know," he muttered after, "I know it sounds crazy but fuck, Steve, I don't fuckin' care. You've waited too fucking long and you deserve to know what it feels like. I wanna give you that."

Images flashed in Steve's mind, each more vivid than the next - Bucky on his hands and knees, Bucky on his back, on his side, against the wall, all with Steve buried inside of him and fucking him until they both came so hard they collapsed - and suddenly Steve was seconds from coming in Bucky's fist.

"You want it, Steve?" Bucky asked, working his hand faster. "Wanna lay me down and fuck me, do it til you come inside me?"

Steve couldn't take it anymore, everything within him snapping and a roar of a moan leaving his mouth as he spilled into Bucky's hand, the onslaught of his words and the images they caused too much to handle. It felt like it might have shaken the ground beneath him, leaving Steve lightheaded and not even softening a little bit as the waves ebbed away and he slowly opened his eyes to find Bucky smirking at him.

They stayed there like that for a moment, grin fixed on Bucky's lips and Steve's eyes wide and dazed as they stared at each other. Steve only found his voice after Bucky coaxed another low sound from his throat by pulling his hand out of his pants and, like the filthy bastard he was, licking off his fingers.

"... Did you mean all that?" Steve asked, blushing for a number of reasons, all of which were entirely Bucky's fault.

"It would be pretty fucked up to say all that to get you off but take it back after," Bucky chuckled. "Yeah, I meant it."

Steve swallowed, feeling a strange mixture of excitement and anxiety at the mere thought. He wasn't ready to do it tonight, that was for sure - he'd need time to think and plan ahead and... figure out what the hell sex with a man was supposed to entail fully, as far as details went. But having those words out there in the open and the offer being laid in front of him like that... he was aching already and he hadn't come more than two minutes prior.

"... Then I better do some catching up," Steve said, reaching down to the hem of Bucky's shirt and pulling it up and over his head. Once it was off he leaned down and kissed Bucky's lips, lingering there just long enough to make Bucky squirm with need before trailing his lips down towards his neck.

"Catching up?" Bucky questioned, fingers drifting through Steve's hair as he sucked a mark just over his pulse point. "What - _fuck_ \- what's that mean?"

"Means there's things you've done to me that I haven't done to you," Steve replied, peeking up as he mouthed over Bucky's collarbone. "And I need to change that."

"Not if you don't want to," Bucky assured him, watching Steve kiss down his chest, over his pecs and grazing his ribs. "You don't owe me anything just because -"

"Buck," Steve's eyes flashed up to his. "I want to. I want everything."

Bucky didn't dare argue with that, surprise briefly flickering through his eyes before heightened arousal darkened them. Steve only smirked back a little bit before continuing his journey down, stopping only to undo Bucky's jeans and pull them down once he reached them.

Somehow, up until this point, Steve hadn't gotten Bucky in his mouth once. Bucky had sucked him off multiple times, almost every day since Steve had arrived, and yet somehow this hadn't happened yet. Steve had wanted to despite his slight anxiety that his inexperience would ruin it and Bucky wouldn't like it, but none of that mattered anymore - he absolutely had to do it, had to give Bucky everything he could that night and prove to him just how much he wanted every inch of him after Bucky had so explicitly offered it to him.

Once Bucky was bare to him, hard and aching and already leaking, Steve took him in hand and started stroking, licking his lips and taking a deep breath as he focused fully on the task at hand. Bucky groaned with just the touch of his hand, biting his lip as he watched, and catching a glimpse of that hungry look in his eyes was all the last little push Steve needed. He leaned forward and licked along the tip, swirling his tongue experimentally and earning a roughly groaned _oh fucking hell_ from Bucky's kiss-swollen lips. The second those words hit Steve's ear, he parted his lips and sucked Bucky into his mouth without a shred of hesitation, taking him as far as he could.

In truth, Steve had meant to take his time and take this slow, get a feel for the act and for what Bucky liked, learn how to do it properly and patiently, but... Bucky was so vocal from the start and so thoroughly starved for the pleasure that Steve was giving him that Steve's plans flew out the proverbial window and he found himself sucking him as tight and deep as he could, his speed increasing parallel to the volume of Bucky's moans and filthy curses and his hand working what he couldn't quite fit into his mouth. He was a man on a mission to see his lover lose his damn mind, nothing else in the world mattering in that moment besides seeing and feeling and tasting Bucky's release.

Bucky was a writhing, panting, sweating mess, gripping Steve's hair and trying to form words despite the tidal wave of pleasure on the cusp of overtaking him. "Fucking... _fuck Steve_ , you gotta - _God_ I'm gonna fuckin'-"

He tried to tug Steve off of him by his hair but Steve didn't budge, wanting everything Bucky was willing to give him and rather than ease off, he doubled down and worked him faster and harder until Bucky's moans became short gasps and, with one last curse, he spilled into Steve's waiting mouth.

Steve swallowed all that he could, making a bit of a mess in the process but Bucky tended to do that too, so he didn't particularly care. Slowly and gently he eased off of Bucky, breathing hard and swiping his palm over his beard, wet with what he hadn't managed to keep in his mouth. Bucky watched him through hooded, sated eyes, their gazes locking and Steve's resulting blush beyond his control.

"God, Steve, c'mere," Bucky urged him, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him until Steve was at his side once more, and then they were kissing again long and deep without a care in the world.

"I guess," Steve chuckled in between their lazy, sweet kisses, "I did all right?"

"Fuck, Steve," Bucky groaned, brushing their noses together gently, "that was so fucking good. I don't even have words for how good that was."

"Well... then mission accomplished," Steve chuckled, stealing another kiss. He was more than relieved that he hadn't embarrassed himself or proven to be a letdown, but next time... next time, he'd be patient and make a night of it, maybe, if Bucky wanted that.

It suddenly struck him that hadn't even left yet, and he was already making plans for how they'd pass time on his next visit. He wondered if this would be his new normal, working and continuing to skirt the law and authorities while looking forward to these little visits and letting the anticipation of them fuel him and sustain him when things became difficult.

God knew everything would be so much easier now that he knew Bucky was okay and had seen him with his own two eyes, heard his laughter and watched him enjoy his new life and thrive within it. That alone was a gift without a price, something he would move heaven and hell itself to make sure didn't change. Anyone who posed a threat to that... he'd take them on with his bare hands and make sure they didn't get to walk away.

But there was no threat and no battle to wage, at least not there. It was just Steve and Bucky and the moon and the stars, and Steve was sure that if he lost everything else but still had those... then maybe he'd get to die a happy man someday after all.

"We should get you back home," Steve murmured when Bucky started to drift off to sleep nestled into his side, head pillowed on his chest.

Bucky groaned in disapproval. "Don't wanna. Like it here."

Steve knew he didn't just mean the little hill they were camped out on, pristine as the river beneath it was and how beautiful and clear the night sky was above them. He liked it there because it was where Steve was, and where Steve was was always where Bucky would choose to be.

Steve held Bucky close and closed his eyes, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before drifting off just after Bucky did. He couldn't think of a better way to spend his last night in Wakanda.

* * *

The following morning, Steve was long gone and Bucky was feeding the goats. He missed him already, having grown entirely too used to his presence over the last 9 days and feeling the weight of his absence with every step he took.

He'd adjust, of course, and he'd be fine while he waited for the next visit. He just missed his best friend.

The sound of a woman cursing in Xhosa stole his attention and made him look up from the goat he'd been petting - the cute little stupid one that most definitely reminded him of Steve. He turned to find none other than the princess herself heading his way, shooing off a few overly excited chickens that had attempted to ambush her.

As he walked to meet her halfway, she tossed him a smile and called, "I have a gift for you, White Wolf!"

The damn nickname was sticking, it seemed, but that was all right. He'd had worse aliases before. "A gift?" he questioned, noticing the small box that she carried with her.

She approached him with a knowing smile and handed the box to him, replying, "You owe me now."

"As if I didn't already," Bucky smiled back. He then looked down and opened the small, narrow box to find what appeared to be a black smartphone inside. "You're giving me a phone?"

"So you can talk to your boyfriend and his silly beard when he's not here," she explained cheerfully.

"Wow, thanks, you didn't have to -" He suddenly paused and blinked at her. "My _what_ -"

"Oh please, Bucky," she waved him off. "Do I look like I don't have eyes?"

He blinked again. "He's not my -"

"Really?" she raised both eyebrows in a distinct _I'm calling bullshit_ gesture. "Well then in that case, if you are going to lie to my face..." She reached for the phone and Bucky drew it back out of instinct, and her knowing smile returned.

"Sorry," he muttered, hiding a small smile but unable to hide his blush. Just a tiny hint of one.

"No need to apologize," she assured him. "You don't have to hide here, you know. Nobody will care. Wakanda is not primitive like your country."

"I know," he smiled. "Thank you."

She nodded, glancing back down at the phone. "It's fully secure and has more memory than you'll ever need. I even took the liberty of installing video calling for you."

"... Video calling?"

"Like Skype, but better because I created it," she smirked. "Also, Captain Rogers' number is already preprogrammed in your contacts."

Bucky chuckled. She really had thought of everything. "I can't thank you enough, Shuri."

"Well, as I said, now you owe me," she smiled back. But her smile quickly dropped off her face when he started to approach her for a hug, holding up her hands and backing away as she screeched, "Don't touch me, Barnes! You are all sweaty and smell like goats!"

He laughed and backed off, unable to argue with the truth. "My bad."

"Take care of that," she pointed to the phone, turning to walk away. "You cannot imagine what the market value of that phone would be."

"You're way too nice to me," Bucky grinned, waving goodbye.

She waved back and chirped, "Yes I am!"

He chuckled as she set off the way that she came, cursing at the same wayward chickens to leave her alone when they came clucking and running at her yet again. Once she was safe from aggressive farmlife, he looked down at the thin, sleek phone and shiny black screen, unable to get the stubborn smile off of his face.

The sound of an annoying, grating whine caught his attention and he glanced to his left to find Steve the goat - his name was definitely Steve now, no question - with his head stuck in the fencing. Bucky rolled his eyes and headed over to the helpless creature, muttering, "You know what, you little dumbass? I know exactly what the first picture I send Steve with this thing is gonna be."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hi there my dudes! Yesterday our dear sweet Steeb turned 100 and my "gift" is this lol. And I know, I know, I've got other things to update and I'll get there, just bear with me lol. Thank you guys so much for reading and following and my HUGE thanks to midnightwings96 for her help and support and feedback and MorningGlory2 for her help as well and her enthusiasm for this story. I hope you guys like this! I'm trying my very best to do these characters justice and develop the relationship realistically so let me know how I'm doing :) I LOVE YOU ALL and thank you for reading! :D**

 **Oh! And I'm on Tumblr now as murder-daddy-bucky lol so follow me there if ya wanna and I'll love you forever :)**

Standing next to Steve on the Quinjet as Sam flew them over Eastern Europe, Natasha was placing her comm unit into her ear as she asked casually, "So, after we're finished, how's Greek sound for dinner?"

Steve gave her a slightly incredulous smile as he adjusted his own earpiece and replied, "You think we're gonna be done in time for dinner? In Greece?"

She shrugged, brushing back a piece of her newly blonde hair from her eyes. "A girl can dream. Besides, I know a guy in Athens. Makes the best lamb you'll ever taste."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Old boyfriend or a chef?"

"I'll let you meet him first and then you can decide for yourself," she teased, and whatever Steve was going to reply with was interrupted by the loud chiming of one of the phones he kept on him at all times. As he furrowed his brows and reached to retrieve it from one of his belt compartments she asked, "Tony?"

He shook his head, staring at the phone screen in confusion and tapping it twice. Then Natasha watched as the pinch in his features faded and gave way to something else, something she hadn't seen from him but maybe once or twice before. All the tension drained from his face and a big, silly smile replaced his worried frown, and her eyes widened as she watched it all unfold.

"Who is it?" she asked despite having a very well educated guess from the minute that smile of his had begun to form on his face.

Rather than answering with words, Steve looked up at her with the dopiest grin she'd ever seen in her life - and that was saying something, coming from Clint Barton's best friend - and showed her the photo on the screen.

"That's a... goat," she surmised. She squinted and tilted her head. "With its head stuck in a fence."

"It's Bucky," Steve grinned, staring at the goat like it was the single best thing he had ever laid his eyes on.

She raised an eyebrow. "He's a goat?"

"No, it's - it's _his_ goat, or one of them," Steve replied, shaking his head as if to clear it, smile stuck on his face. "He's living on a farm in the countryside, and... they must have given him a phone to keep in touch."

Then he started typing up a reply to the photo, eyes bright and expression easy and relaxed and... happy. Natasha stared at him as if an alien had just descended from a wormhole and replaced Steve with a pod person right there as she watched - even that might not have been as dramatic of a shift from the norm as _this_ was.

She had been a near constant companion of Steve's for years now, a few longer than Sam and the closest thing to a confidant that she suspected he had. They'd been through everything together from alien invasions to the fall of SHIELD and, most recently, the disbanding of the Avengers. She had no hesitation in admitting how much she utterly adored Steve and how willing she was to dismember anyone who tried to hurt him, or further shake his faith in humanity and life itself. He'd been through hell and she had watched it take its toll on him, age him in ways that couldn't be helped. But he never lost his inherent _goodness_ , those inner qualities that made him who he was and managed to keep her own remaining faith alive in the face of events that would have snuffed it out long ago.

He was honorable, brave, decent, selfless. The best man she had ever known and would ever know, she was sure. But one thing he had never been from the very first moment she'd met him was _happy_. Not even a little.

She'd caught a glimpse once, during a conversation they'd shared after going on the run following the fiasco with the Accords. He had told her about Peggy Carter and the brief but consuming romance they'd shared, her loss weighing heavy on his heart months after her funeral and likely forever. He recounted the day he'd met her and the way that she'd socked a soldier in the face for disrespecting her, how he'd known from that moment forward that she was something else and exactly the kind of gal he could fall hard for, and he had smiled in a soft and genuine way that had served as all the proof one could ask for of how deeply he loved her. She hadn't seen that smile again, not even a hint of anything like it... until now.

It wasn't like the last time she had seen him smile because of Bucky, when he'd gotten the text from T'Challa that he was awake and healed and ready for visits. This time it was different somehow, a softness in his eyes and a faint flush in his cheeks that she found most peculiar. Her eyes drifted along his features down to his thumbs typing away and then back up again, and as her theory began to come together... she wondered why it had never occurred to her before.

If she was right... it would explain a lot.

"So," she said with a wry little smirk, " _that's_ why you weren't ever interested in any of the dates I tried to set you up on."

Steve's thumbs stilled, smile not quite leaving but shrinking a little as he glanced up at her in confusion. "What?"

She gave him a knowing look. "I'd like to think I can read you pretty well by now. And at the moment you look kind of like a teenage girl who just got texted by her crush for the first time."

His reaction to those words, she knew, would tell her all she needed to know. And she wasn't wrong.

His eyes widened fractionally, staring at her with a very mild but very noticeable glint of panic in his eyes. "I - _what_?"

She sighed and gave him a warm smile, patting his shoulder. "I didn't realize you were being so literal with the whole 'shared life experience' thing. So back in the 40s, were you two -"

" _No_ ," he blinked, the word coming out far more passionately than he intended. Sam in the pilot's seat glanced over his shoulder with narrowed eyes, clearly wondering what the hell was going on, and Steve took a breath and sighed, "No, Nat, we weren't - no."

"So it's a recent development," she deduced.

"It's -" Steve slapped his mouth shut as soon as he'd opened it, blinking a few times and clearly having no idea what the hell to say or how to say it.

She smiled again, finding Steve possibly cuter than she ever had. "Relax. It's really not that shocking. Though I do find your embarrassment adorable."

Steve blushed and rolled his eyes, glancing down at the phone and pausing before meeting her gaze again and muttering, "Can you just... can we keep it between us because I really don't know what the hell I'm doing and -"

"No," she deadpanned, "I'm going to immediately run to the _Daily Mail_ and sell this story for millions." At Steve's raised eyebrow and exasperated grin, she smiled and added, "You should know me better by now, Steve."

"I do," he assured her. "Sorry. Guess I'm just... kind of out of my element with things like this."

"Well if you ever need tips or advice," Natasha remarked casually, "my door's always open."

"... Tips?"

"Date night ideas, gift ideas, sex positions - you know, the usual," she shrugged, trying not to grin too obnoxiously when Steve's mouth dropped open a bit on that last one. She decided she might as well go for broke at this point. "My understanding is that in your particular case, lube is crucial and you should always have it on hand. Like... a lot of it."

Face going up in flames and a vein in his forehead nearly ready to burst, Steve was on the cusp of what surely would have been a thoroughly entertaining and sputtering reply but was interrupted by Sam calling over his shoulder, "10 minutes, guys. Might wanna finish gearing up unless you'd rather keep whispering and giggling like a couple of 12 year old One Direction fans."

Natasha rolled her eyes at his word choice and glanced at Steve's phone still in his hand. "For the record," she murmured, "it's nice to see you happy for once. I hope it works out."

His expression relaxed some, that smile that Natasha was starting to love on him returning a little bit. "Me too."

If anyone deserved to be happy, after all, it was Steve Rogers. Anything she could do to help facilitate that, she would without hesitation.

Including, she decided later after their mission was completed and they had to settle for canned dinners rather than the Greek feast she'd been craving, memorizing a certain number from Steve's phone when he wasn't looking and sending its owner a text of her own.

* * *

It was late when Bucky returned to his little hut after a lazy moonlit dip in the river, towel-clad and relaxed, ready to dry off and hopefully catch a decent night's sleep before sunrise rolled around. He didn't sleep quite as well without Steve there but that didn't surprise him. At least now, if he ever needed to calm down after a nightmare or talk until he was too tired to keep his eyes open, Steve was just a phone call away. That knowledge alone worked wonders for his state of mind, which he really couldn't complain too much about these days.

He felt good. He liked the little farm, liked taking care of the goats and the crops and spending his time doing honest, rewarding work. He liked his neighbors, loved the little kids who seemed surprisingly fond of him in return, and most of all he couldn't be more grateful for the removal of his trigger words and the crippling anxiety that came with them. To be free of the Winter Soldier's programming was to be free of the weight of the very world, like an invisible hand that had been slowly choking the life out of him was finally gone at last and he could breathe again.

Nightmares and flashbacks and pangs of guilt and regret still came, and he knew better than to think that would ever change. But now he didn't feel like he was drowning anymore or stuck within a mind that wasn't truly his own. Now he had hope, real hope, and that made all the difference.

He didn't deserve it, he knew that. He didn't deserve a lot of things he had or the people who cared about him, Steve being the first who came to mind. But of course, there was no trying to tell Steve that, so Bucky didn't bother with that one anymore.

He toweled off his long hair once he was back inside the hut, his eyes drifting to the sleek black cell phone sitting on the little table next to his bed. He wasn't unfamiliar with cell phones following his two years in Romania but he'd never used one quite like this, and its speed and capabilities greatly impressed him. There were certainly upsides to being thrust into the future, he had to admit. And not all of those upsides were tech related.

His thoughts drifting back to Steve and specifically to the new and unexpected ways in which their relationship was evolving, he only realized that he was staring off into space with the now-forgotten towel dangling from his hand when his phone chirped and got his attention. He tossed the towel aside and made for the bed, picking up the phone and sitting down and expecting a message from Steve.

But instead, the new text was from a number he'd never seen before. Brows furrowing quickly and immediately thinking the very worst, he swiftly unlocked the phone and read the text in question. It wasn't anything sinister, thank God, but it took him a moment to figure out who the hell it was from.

 _You might be his oldest living friend_ , the message began, _but I'm the second oldest now and that means I'm allowed to send threatening, overprotective messages like this. I don't think you'll hurt him but if you do, I'll find you, I promise. And you won't see me coming._

Bucky reread the message three times before he looked up and, brows even more pinched, began mentally running through a list of possible suspects as to who the sender was. It didn't sound like Wilson - and Bucky would probably definitely see him coming for sure. Big metal wings weren't exactly subtle nor stealthy. However, the message did fit his other top suspect.

He typed one word and sent it off. _Romanoff?_

Her reply didn't take long. _Who else?_

He grinned and paused, taking a breath and letting it go. He liked this one. Steve talked about her a lot, seemed to trust her and lean on her when he needed someone. Bucky was glad he had someone like that, glad he had Wilson too. Being alone in an overwhelming new world wasn't easy. He knew that firsthand.

 _He told you?_ Bucky asked next, finding that aspect of things by far the most surprising. He wasn't mad or offended, didn't see a need to keep it a secret from Steve's friends, but he just... hadn't anticipated Steve telling _anyone_ for awhile, he supposed.

 _He didn't need to,_ her answer read. _It was written all over his face_.

Bucky smiled as he stared at those words. Steve never had been able to hide anything, at least not from him. And Romanoff, if she was all the Black Widow was cracked up to be - and he knew that she was - she could undoubtedly read Steve like a book.

 _I'm the last person you gotta worry about hurting him,_ Bucky replied. _Rather lose another arm than ever hurt him_.

 _Dramatic. No wonder he likes you_.

Bucky laughed out loud a little, shaking his head. He was about to reply when he suddenly got a text from Steve that read, _Is Natasha texting you?_

Bucky furrowed his brows and wasn't sure who to answer first, and then his phone kept chiming with new incoming texts as he stared at it helplessly.

Natasha: _Ignore him, we're not done here yet_.

Steve: _What's she saying?_

Natasha: _My God, he's spazzing like a chihuahua lol_

Steve: _if she's bothering you I can make her stop_

Steve: _Well not really but I'll tell her to_

Natasha: _Anyway, I think you get the picture. Hurt him and I hurt you. Pretty simple_.

Bucky blinked and replied with a quick _yes_ , _ma'am_ before he received yet another text, this time one that began a new thread with both Steve and Natasha's numbers at the top and a message from Steve that read, _There, now we can all talk here and save all the secrecy._

Bucky tilted his head in confusion but understood when Natasha replied just under that message with one of her own. _You figured out how to start a group chat? I'm impressed. But also not interested._

Steve _: Why, because you can't handle transparency_?

Natasha: _No, because I have no interest in getting the middle of whatever kind of sexting you dirty old men get up to in your spare time_.

Bucky had picked the wrong moment to take a drink of water. He choked immediately upon reading those words, sputtering and coughing as she then followed up with, _Wait, do you two even know what sexting is_?

Steve _: I know what sexting is, Nat_. _I've had internet access for five years now_.

Bucky had no idea what was going on but he couldn't look away, each incoming text reading more and more like a trainwreck but he had no plans of making it stop.

Natasha: _Oh good. Well while I have you both here, should we talk about the birds and the bees?_

Steve: _Nat I think we're good there_

Natasha: ... _are you tho_

Bucky finally reached his limit and sent a message into the group text for the first time. _No 3rd party intervention necessary, but appreciate the concern. I think._

A moment passed and then Natasha replied with, _Fine but I'll tell you the same thing I told him - lots and lots and lots of luuuuuube_

 _"_ Oh my God," Bucky mumbled out loud, grateful that nobody could see how suddenly pink his cheeks were.

 _Okay we're done here_ , Steve decreed, and then a notification of his leaving the group sprang up.

 _God it's fun to tease him_ , Natasha immediately replied with a series of laughing emojis.

 _You're telling me_ , Bucky typed back, a smile stuck to his face despite his mild embarrassment.

He sat back on his bed, settling back against the pillows and deciding that actually, there was absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. Others could tease all they wanted and he was fine with that, especially if it was coming from a good place as it seemed to be with Natasha, but the truth was he'd been through too damn much in his godforsaken life to care what anyone thought about something that made him happy. Back in the old days it would have been different but now, in _this_ world and _this_ century, and with all the scars he'd gained to get there... _fuck it_. He couldn't possibly care less what anyone thought of him and of _them_. Not when it came to that.

The fact that he then pulled up Google and typed in _what is sexting_ , however... he'd keep that to himself.

* * *

Steve's next visit to Wakanda came later than he would have liked, but life on the run and conducting covert ops being what it was, he didn't have a lot of choice in the matter. But the very moment that a stretch of free time opened up - two weeks this time, at least - Steve seized it with both hands and didn't look back. He also didn't tell Bucky, because he decided that surprising him was one of his new favorite things and he wanted to do it as often as he could.

He left before the sun rose one late summer morning and bade Sam and Nat farewell from the motel the three of them had stayed the night at, and he of course didn't miss the subtle glint in Nat's eye when she told him to _have fun and be careful_. Sam didn't understand the double meaning there, of course, and Steve was sort of glad for it because he wasn't sure if he could handle the relentless teasing that would result if they _both_ knew. It was only a matter of time before they did but for the time being, Steve was content to keep it all mostly to himself.

As he flew the Quinjet to Wakanda, coordinates memorized ever since his very first trip there, his inner excitement grew and grew until he could hardly keep the little smile off of his face. He was gonna have two weeks with Bucky, two weeks of no fighting, no secret missions, no sleeping with one eye open everywhere he went. Two weeks of the outside world ceasing to matter, of laughter and ease and just... doing whatever the hell they wanted. Like the old days but better because he could breathe and they were free and there was no war, at least not right now.

By the time he entered Wakandan airspace, he already felt better than he had since... well, since the last time he had been there.

After landing and catching up with T'Challa for a bit, Steve headed down to the farm and relished the clean air and the sounds of birds chirping and livestock roaming, the way the sun felt on his face and the breeze cut through the heat. Leaving was gonna be even harder this time around, he already knew it.

When he approached the farm at last, he initially didn't see a single sign of Bucky anywhere. He wasn't out with the animals, wasn't tending to the garden, and he doubted he was inside given that it was early afternoon. He called his name once or twice and then headed behind the hut, where he knew the well was along with some equipment and usually some bales of hay, too. He opened his mouth to call for Bucky one more time but, the minute he turned the corner, he fell silent and smiled instead.

There was Bucky, curled up on his side on top of an apparently cozy pile of hay, snoozing away while Steve's little namesake goat laid next to him chewing on a mouthful of the hay along with what appeared to be... some of Bucky's hair.

"Hey little guy," Steve said quietly, not wanting to wake Bucky just yet as he approached slowly. He tugged Bucky's hair away from the silly goat and added, "Yeah... that's not food, sorry." Then the little creature bumped Steve's hand like a cat looking for pets, and Steve obliged with a quiet chuckle until it had its fill and stood up to trot off towards its buddies, leaving Steve alone with Bucky, still doing his very best impression of Sleeping Beauty.

Steve knelt down beside him and debated the best course of action. He could let him sleep until he woke on his own - maybe he hadn't been out for very long and needed the nap, after all. Or he could wake him gently, careful not to startle him too badly and end up on the business end of an instinctive punch to the face or hand clamped around the throat. That was never pleasant, and he really wanted to start this visit off right and not with a black eye and Bucky's inevitably endless apologies.

In the end, he opted for what he decided was the safest bet. He leaned in closer and brushed a few stray locks of hair from Bucky's face, a touch of a smile playing on his lips as he watched Bucky stir slightly from the light touch.

"Hey, Buck," he murmured quietly, the backs of his fingers gently brushing his cheek. "Wake up, sleepyhead."

Bucky made a slightly perturbed noise but started opening his eyes anyway, blinking a few times until his vision cleared. Then he looked up at Steve, full of confusion until he blinked one more time and muttered, "Steve?" Steve was able only to smile back, wide and happy, before Bucky blinked one more time and grinned as he shot up, hand immediately grasping the back of Steve's head as he chuckled, "What the hell -"

Bucky cut off his own words with the sudden and exuberant kiss he pressed to Steve's lips, the force of it taking Steve by the best kind of surprise. He only floundered for a moment before he kissed Bucky back with equal fervor, both of them smiling into the kiss until Bucky pulled away and said, "You coulda warned me."

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't have gotten this kinda welcome," Steve pointed out, his satisfied grin not going anywhere.

"You fucker," Bucky muttered with a good natured shake of his head before pulling him in again and this time their kiss lingered, growing deeper as the seconds passed and taking them both by surprise.

They pulled away already panting, Steve's forehead resting against Bucky's as he murmured, "So is this how we're saying hi now?"

"You complaining?"

"Not at all," Steve chuckled. "Think I could get used to it."

"Then come here," Bucky purred before capturing his lips in another kiss, and this time Steve let Bucky take the lead and show him how much he'd missed him. They'd kept in touch through texting and calls but there was nothing like being together like this, nothing quite the same as seeing him and feeling him and being reminded that he was real and _alive_ and safe.

Steve ended up sitting back on his heels with Bucky half on his lap, arm around his shoulders and hand in his hair like he was unwilling to stop touching him for even a moment, and the next time they took a moment to breathe Bucky asked, "How long you here?"

"Two weeks, maybe more," Steve replied, and the way that Bucky slowly smiled up at him in reply both warmed Steve's heart and sent a nervous flutter through his veins. Then Bucky pulled him close and simply held him, burying his face in Steve's shoulder, and Steve closed his eyes and hugged him back, feeling like everything shifted back into place in that moment and made sense again. Like he was home again.

Maybe he was. Maybe this was where home had always been.

* * *

They picked up right back where they'd left off, falling back effortlessly into the comfortable and pleasant little routine they'd created during Steve's first visit. Steve helped out while Bucky worked and took care of the farm, and the neighbor kids, when they spotted the White Wolf's bearded friend back at his side, immediately came running over and spent the entire rest of the day, until sunset, playing with them and pestering them in only slightly annoying and mostly adorable ways.

In the middle of a game of catch - made interesting by Steve throwing the ball just far enough to wow the kids but not chuck the thing across Wakanda's borders - the English speaking boy, a sharp-witted child named Thabo, asked as one of his companions ran to retrieve the ball, "Where are you from?"

Steve opened his mouth to answer, one word immediately on the tip of his tongue but dying before he could give voice to it. It felt strange to answer with anything these days, feeling as if though place where he was from didn't exist anymore - because it didn't. But nonetheless, he recovered and replied with a small smile, "Brooklyn, New York."

"You live there?" the boy asked, a curious little thing.

"Not anymore," Steve replied. "Not for a long time."

"Then where _do_ you live?"

The other boys came running back with the ball as Bucky glanced at Steve, waiting to hear his answer. Steve paused and shrugged, answering as honestly as he could think to. "Nowhere right now."

Thabo tilted his head a bit and and then seemed to call a sudden conference with the other boys, the three of them talking amongst themselves as Bucky leaned back against the tree he was sitting in front of. "Where'd you live before everything? Before..."

"Avengers compound," Steve replied. "Before that, D.C.."

Bucky nodded, well aware of the events that led to each sudden change of residence and his central role in both. "You know," he began quietly, "when I was hiding... it wasn't just for my sake. I knew you had a life, a job, friends - saw it all on the news and in papers. Didn't wanna fuck all of that up."

Steve frowned at that, glancing at the kids who seemed to be quite engrossed in their conversation before moving to take a seat next to Bucky, under the shade of the tree. "None of that's your fault."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Listen," he chuckled, "I get that you think I'm worth it, but it _was_ my fault. If it wasn't for me you'd still have all your friends and none of that shit would have happened with Stark. And you know it."

He did know it. He was painfully aware of everyone and everything he'd lost, not the least of which was his freedom and good standing among roughly half of the population back home. He missed his friends from the other side, missed Tony and Rhodey and the Avengers as the whole unit they'd once been. They'd been the closest thing to a family he'd found since coming out of the ice, but never, not once during even his weakest or saddest moments, did he regret a single action he'd taken after Lagos. All he had to do was look at Bucky to see why everything he'd lost had been more than worth it.

"Well," he finally replied after taking a moment to choose the right words. "I wish everything had happened differently. I wish neither of us had to hide. But I can't change what happened. And I wouldn't. It was worth it."

"... You're a real dumbass, you know that?"

Steve laughed, Bucky's words and smile full of nothing but affection. "Yeah I know. But you'd do the same for me, so..."

He glanced at Bucky and they shared a silent look that expressed even more than words would before they were interrupted by the kids tossing the ball back their way and getting the game started again. This time, every time they passed the ball to Steve, they called him something they hadn't before. After his third time catching the word, he glanced at Bucky and asked, "What're they calling me?"

Bucky shrugged. "Haven't learned that word yet."

" _Uzulani_ ," Thabo piped up, tossing the ball at Steve. "Wanderer, or nomad."

Steve paused, holding the ball and taking a few seconds to absorb that. It was fitting, he supposed. Truth be told, he had felt more or less like a wanderer ever since waking up alone in a new century. He was always moving from one place to another, nothing feeling permanent, nothing feeling _worth_ permanence. Nothing, at least, until now.

But he couldn't stay here, either. He would keep coming and going and, just as this overly observant kid had noted, wandering to and fro. He didn't know how to stand still anymore.

Before he could answer the boy, his mother called out from the neighboring hut and, without a second's hesitation, the kids yelled their goodbyes and went running home. Steve waved after them and Bucky glanced up at the sun to determine the time.

"Well, _Nomad_ ," Bucky teased as he turned around and started heading off towards the garden, "ready to help me with dinner?"

"I've gotta peel the damn potatoes again, don't I," Steve sighed despite his smile, following after him.

Bucky looked at Steve over his shoulder. "You know how much of a pain in the ass it is to peel potatoes with one hand? I can do it but _fuck_ , it's barely worth it."

"So that's why you keep me around then," Steve surmised. "Just so you can put me to work."

"Oh I'll put you to work, pal," Bucky grinned back in a way that left zero room for doubt as to what he meant. "But dinner first."

Steve returned his smirk and was suddenly more motivated to peel potatoes than he'd ever been in his life.

OOO

Later that night they fell into bed in a tangled mess of limbs and lips and skin that burned hotter with each touch, wrecked with desire and a comfort level that hadn't quite been there at the start of Steve's last visit. Neither of them now hesitated any longer before tearing the other's clothes off and groping whatever the hell they wanted to or, in Bucky's case, tossing Steve down on the bed and sucking him off like he'd been starving for it.

He was getting good at it, too. He'd always been good, even his semi-clumsy first time, but now... _now_ , his mouth was nothing short of a damn weapon, and what made it all the more intoxicating was how much Bucky seemed to relish the act. He liked it so much, in fact, he did it twice that night and again the next, and Steve was somewhere near the stratosphere in terms of state of mind. He understood it, though - the only thing better than letting Bucky spoil him with pleasure was giving it back to him and watching him lose his mind. He was so vocal and expressive and his filthy mouth was... _God_ Steve loved it all.

But they didn't go any further than they already had over those first few days. They whiled the hours away together on the farm and had dinner at the palace just like before, socialized and ate and drank and had a grand old time with their friends before retiring back to Bucky's little hut and losing sleep in the best ways. It was a routine Steve was happy to keep to, and he didn't hear Bucky complaining either.

On the third day, Bucky enlisted Steve's help with laundry, which he did the old fashioned way with a washboard and clothesline. Steve was, of course, more than happy to lend a hand and offered Bucky a shirt from his own bag to wear while his dried. Bucky didn't think anything of it and went inside to take him up on the offer while Steve kept at it, finding his bag and reaching inside to grab one of the ridiculous white t-shirts that Steve insisted on just barely squeezing his equally ridiculous torso into.

And when Bucky felt a plastic-wrapped square box nestled in one of the inner side compartments, he couldn't help but let his inner nosiness creep to the surface and pull it out to see what it was. Whatever he'd been expecting, it most definitely was _not_ a variety pack of personal lubricants in various flavors and other special functions. He was so taken aback that he stared at the box with wide eyes for longer than he'd ever care to admit and then hurriedly shoved it back inside the bag, swallowing a sudden lump in his throat and wondering why his heart was racing.

Then he stood up and shrugged the shirt on, almost walked into a wall, and smoothed his hair back before telling himself to get a grip and go back out there and act like he'd never seen anything. But he was glad he saw it - now he knew for sure that Steve had been thinking about it and wanted it, which put them on the same page.

Naturally, from that point forward, Bucky could think of little else. But he played it cool as best as he could until later that night, long after the sun had set and left him with zero reasons to keep his thoughts to himself.

He took Steve down to the little spring he liked to swim around and relax in, both shedding their clothes and slipping into the clean warm water, hidden by trees and enjoying all the privacy they could ask for. Bucky had a plan for how it was gonna go and for once... one of his plans finally worked out.

* * *

It was a beautiful night. The stars in the sky were massive and gleaming, the water he was submerged in was warm and refreshing and there were even _fireflies_ flickering around them, as if it all wasn't picturesque enough. But Steve wasn't looking at the stars or the water or even the cute little bugs buzzing by; he was looking at the man currently quite happily nestled in his arms, back to Steve's chest as they lounged against a bank.

He just couldn't get over how natural it felt, being together like they were and pressed to each other without a stitch of clothing anywhere, Bucky's head on his shoulder and Steve's arm slung across his chest. But with each passing day - each passing moment, even - it only felt more and more right. Bucky didn't seem to ever think twice now about reaching out and touching him, kissing him, initiating something deeper with sometimes just a look that still gave Steve goosebumps to be on the receiving end of. Steve thought it was only fair, then, to get to be able to touch him however he wanted, too.

He pressed a gentle kiss to Bucky's temple, the affectionate touch making Bucky grin a little as his eyes stayed closed. Then Steve kissed his cheekbone, his jaw, eventually turning his head with his free hand so that he could reach not his lips but his neck. He knew Bucky liked that and he knew his favorite spots by now, too. He lingered at one, a gentle flick of his tongue against it prompting Bucky to groan faintly and murmur, "Just can't keep your hands off me, huh?"

"Why should I?" Steve asked, a small grin playing on his lips as Bucky turned his head to meet his gaze. "Gotta enjoy it while I can, right?"

"Don't let me stop you," Bucky replied, the gravelly quality of his voice doing things to Steve that he didn't even try to hide. He leaned down and kissed Bucky's lips and he wondered if it would ever stop feeling this good to touch him like this. He couldn't imagine living without it now that he knew how good it was.

That initial gentle little kiss grew into many more, each one deeper and longer than the last until Bucky turned in his arms and pressed himself flush against him, arm curling around Steve's shoulders and mouth hungry as they languidly devoured one another. Steve's hands ventured under the water to grasp at Bucky's hips when he started rolling them, his breath hitching at the way their hardening lengths rubbed together in the process. Bucky broke the kiss to watch Steve through darkened eyes, his hips working out a lazy rhythm as he murmured, "Doesn't take much, does it?"

"Could say the same for you," Steve shot back barely over a whisper, brows pinched as the sensations built and made his brain go hazy.

Bucky's eyes fell to Steve's lips for a moment before he leaned in and kissed them again, grinding against him a little harder and pulling a low groan from his throat. He couldn't help it, Bucky felt too damn good like that and he knew it. But Steve wanted, _needed_ more and his hands acted of their own will, sliding further down and gripping Bucky's ass to pull him even closer, make the friction even better. Bucky seemed to like that, growling a little and biting Steve's lower lip as he broke the kiss to suck in a ragged breath.

"Steve," he panted a little, eyes closed and cheeks flushed as Steve watched him, so close their noses brushed every few breaths. "God you feel good."

Steve groaned his agreement and stole another kiss, both of them lost to it and lost to the pleasure building until Bucky pulled away one more time, words even more strained than before. "I want... I wanna feel you," he confessed, eyes opening to meet Steve's lust-heated and slightly confused gazed.

"You are right now," he said with a breathless huff of a chuckle, their rhythm never faltering for a moment.

"No, Steve," Bucky shook his head, briefly biting his lip before managing to get the words out. "I want... I want more. Wanna give you more."

Steve's already pounding heart nearly fluttered out of his chest, heat racing up his spine as his hands tightened subconsciously. He was fairly sure he knew what Bucky meant, knew that this wasn't the first time he'd brought it up, but if he just assumed and it turned out he was wrong...

"I know you want it," Bucky murmured, kissing him quickly but no less deep for how short it was. "Know you wanna fuck me. Know you think about it."

Steve moaned and it was like every nerve in his body fired at once, the heat suddenly unbearable and his orgasm suddenly ready to crash through him any second. "God, _fuck_..."

Steve's eyes were closed and he missed the way Bucky's lips upturned in a crooked grin at the unexpected curse. Steve was no Boy Scout when it came to language but Bucky hadn't yet coaxed such words out him yet during these more intimate encounters. But if this was how he could do that...

"You can have me," Bucky told him, tone low and like velvet as their movements grew rougher and quicker, Steve's face and body giving away how unbearably close he was. "Tonight. You want me?"

" _Yes_ ," Steve replied breathlessly before he could think twice about it, nodding and chasing his lips for a kiss. " _God_ I do, Buck, I want you."

Bucky kissed him one more time, tongue moving filthy against Steve's before he murmured utterly wantonly, "Then take me to bed and fuck me, Steve."

Steve lost it without warning, a shudder and a gasp leaving his lips before he moaned out a rushed and strangled "Oh fuck _fuck_ -" and then he was gone. Bucky watched him through every second of it, eyes hungry as he soaked it all in and savored the way Steve trembled and gasped through it, until he was spent for the time being and let his head fall forward on to Bucky's shoulder.

By the time everything made sense again and Steve was able to lift up his head and fully grasp what had just transpired, he realized he was still hard after all of that and so was Bucky. He also realized that Bucky was staring at him with the most lovingly obnoxious grin he'd ever seen in his life, and Steve wanted to both slap it off of him and grab him and kiss him into next week.

"You know," Bucky drawled, a bit of his old cocky self floating to the surface, "seems like every time I talk about that... you shoot off like a damn rocket. Wonder why that is."

Steve stared at him, breaths still a little labored and his pulse definitely still racing, the orgasm barely taking the edge off despite how good it had been. "I don't... I want to, Bucky, but I don't know what I'm doing and I'm... it makes me nervous that I'll hurt you. And if I hurt you..."

"Aw, don't worry," Bucky shook his head, running a comforting hand down Steve's shoulder. "You're not gonna hurt me."

"I could," Steve murmured with a tiny shrug.

"Not if we take our time and do it right," Bucky replied, fingers tripping absently through Steve's beard. "Besides," he added with a rueful grin, "I, ah... I gotta be honest with you. I saw your giant pack of lube in your bag earlier, so... I think we're gonna be fine."

Steve's expression turned from concerned and hesitant to blank and confused almost instantly. "... What?"

"I know I shoulda said something but I wasn't really sure _what_ to say, so I just -"

"What giant pack of - _what_?" Steve squinted, cheeks suddenly burning again and Bucky looking equally confused now as they stared at each other. "What are you talking about?"

"The fucking - the - when I got your shirt out of your..." Bucky trailed off and narrowed his eyes. "If you didn't put it in there, who did?"

Steve was flabbergasted for all of three seconds until the obvious truth dawned on him. He sighed and muttered, "Nat. It had to be Nat."

"... How close _are_ you two?"

Steve laughed and shook his head. "She's always looking out for me. I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"And here I thought you came all prepared," Bucky grinned, leaning back and feigning great disappointment. "I'm hurt."

Steve gave him a _look_. "Well if it makes you feel better, I did Google... some things. So I _was_ thinking about it."

"You Googled it," Bucky chuckled, all affection in his eyes.

"Yeah, didn't really have many other options," Steve smiled back, stating the obvious.

"It's all right. I read some stuff too," Bucky admitted. "Had to know for sure what I was volunteering for, you know?"

Steve watched him for a moment before huffing and smiling, "This is nuts, Buck."

"Yeah, I know," Bucky laughed gently. "But so is everything. Being here, being _alive_ when we both should have been dead a long time ago. I just wanna make the most of what time we've got."

"You planning on going somewhere?" Steve asked, smile shrinking a bit in the wake of those more somber words.

"Not if I can help it. I just know how things are and... some kind of bullshit always happens," Bucky shrugged. "I don't know. After everything we've been through... seems stupid not to do whatever the hell we wanna do when nothing's stopping us."

Steve couldn't argue with logic as sound as that. He considered those words, eyes trailing down to the wet tips of Bucky's hair on his shoulders, dipping in and out of the water with the breaths they took. The moonlight above cast an unmistakable romantic light on the spring, on _them_ , and Steve knew what a gorgeous picture they made like this. He could draw it and paint it to the best of his ability and still never do it justice, but God knew he'd still try. Maybe he would someday.

"All right," he murmured, giving Bucky a little nudge to his hip. "Let's get out of here."

OOO

On their way back to the hut, a crackle of thunder preceded an unexpected rainstorm that poured over them and made them suddenly feel like little kids again, laughing at the absurdity of the entire situation as they ran towards shelter. They were still laughing a little bit by the time they got there, drenched all over again and ducking under the low doorway clad in nothing but towels and holding armfuls of clothes that were just as uselessly wet as they were.

The clothes were tossed aside and left to worry about later, Bucky saving them any potential awkwardness by grabbing Steve by the back of his head and kissing him before he could start rambling or ask Bucky how he wanted to get started. His plan worked perfectly as Steve almost immediately groaned into the kiss and deepened it, reaching down and tugging away the towel from Bucky's hips and smoothing his hands over the warm flesh. Bucky kissed him back just as hungrily and before he knew it, Steve was walking them back towards the bed and, when he pushed Bucky down on it and climbed over him with both determination and slight apprehension in his eyes, Bucky realized that this was really happening.

Steve did too, laying Bucky down and taking a moment to gaze upon him, running the pad of his thumb along his jaw and the growing beard there. Then he took a breath and murmured, "You sure about this?"

"Yes," Bucky smiled in exasperation, reaching up and pulling Steve closer, widening his legs to let him lay between them. "Trust me, Steve, if I don't like it I'll tell you. Don't worry about it. I'm here and I want it. Want you."

Steve's eyes darkened and he leaned down for another hungry kiss, one that made them both groan quietly and clutch each other more tightly, bodies moving together and sharing heat and building it so effortlessly it was almost easy to forget what they were doing and just... let the sensations sweep them away. But Bucky didn't let Steve forget, breaking the kiss eventually and muttering, "Your bag's by the bed."

That made Steve blink down at him and flush, a few wet strands of hair stuck to his forehead as he replied, "Oh. Yeah, right. Okay."

He then scrambled halfway off of Bucky and leaned over the bed, tugging his bag closer and hurriedly rifling through it to find the items he hadn't even known were in there the whole time. Once his fingers brushed against the box buried in one of the inner side compartments, he paused and then pulled it out and stared at it with raised eyebrows

"... Wow."

"Yeah," Bucky chuckled. "You like passion fruit, right?"

Steve glanced at him in a way that made Bucky's grin only widen as he began to tear off the plastic wrap from the box. "You know what, Buck..."

"Sorry," Bucky continued to smirk, not really sorry at all and they both knew it. "I'll shut up."

"No you won't. You can't," Steve replied with a knowing grin. "But here, I'll let you pick. Which one?"

Bucky eyed the various little bottles in the package and let his smile fade a bit, a faint blush replacing his usual cool and smooth demeanor as he read the labels. "Maybe... just the... the normal one," he said after swallowing and blinking a few times. "We can try all that other shit later."

"Okay," Steve nodded, grabbing that particular bottle and tossing the rest back into his bag. He was still going to kill Nat later but he had to admit, her nosiness had proved useful in this case. He'd thank her _after_ giving her a hard time and tormenting her with a lack of details she'd surely demand.

Steve then placed the bottle down on the bed next to them and hesitated as to what to do next, both of them looking at each other for a beat and not saying a word. Then Bucky blinked and started to turn over, asking quietly, "Do you... d'you want me like this or -"

"Um..." Steve furrowed his brows and had a hard time processing the question, a sudden wave of anxiety and _oh no I have no idea what I'm doing_ crashing over him and leaving him useless for a moment.

"... You still with me, Steve?" Bucky asked, expression concerned and suddenly almost as anxious as Steve's.

But Steve snapped out of it with a slight shake of his head, blinking and nodding, "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." He looked Bucky over, halfway laying on his side now and flushed and still so incredibly hard and needing attention, and his decision came easy. "And no, I... I wanna see your face. Your eyes. Be able to kiss you still."

Something in Bucky's eyes softened and it made Steve's heart thump. He'd expected Bucky to call him an old sap or something but instead he rolled back to lay flat on the bed and smiled at him, and somehow that was enough to lay some of Steve's anxiety to rest. He wasn't sure if it was the trust or the affection or maybe just _everything_ about what they had, but whatever it was, it took what could have been an awkward moment and turned it into something sweet and memorable.

"You like kissing me, Steve?" Bucky teased as Steve settled next to him on his side, facing him and leaning over him to do exactly that.

"You're damn right I do," he murmured against his lips, his left hand on Bucky's chest as they kissed lazily. "I love everything we do."

"Me too," Bucky replied, hand slipping into Steve's hair and pulling him back for another kiss when he drew away. Steve let his hand roam down his chest and over his abs, taking his time and kissing slow and deep. He let instinct guide his every move, wanting Bucky as relaxed and aroused as possible before they got started, and the moan Bucky let out when Steve wrapped his hand around his length and started gently stroking let him know that he was doing a damn good job.

Steve watched his his own hand work up and down, watched Bucky's hips roll up towards his fist and savored each groan he pulled from his kiss-swollen lips. He only stopped when Bucky reached down and grabbed the nearly forgotten bottle of lube, picking it up and uncapping it as he looked at Steve in a way that he couldn't possibly misinterpret.

Jaw clenching briefly, Steve let go and then held out his hand and let Bucky pour the bottle over it. After pouring what might have been slightly too much, Bucky shut the lid and tossed it back down before meeting Steve's gaze. He didn't need to say anything and neither did Steve, both of them drawing together for another kiss as Steve let his hand venture somewhere new.

Steve tried not to let his nervousness show in his touch, doing his best to ignore that little bit of slight leftover anxiety as he slowly let his fingers drag between Bucky's thighs, carefully pressing higher while Bucky slung his leg over Steve's to open up and make more room for him. All was quiet until the first real brush of his finger, at which point Bucky jerked slightly and hissed beyond his control.

"You okay?" Steve asked gently, falling completely still.

"Yeah," Bucky nodded. "Sorry. Keep going, m'fine." Steve kissed him and took his word for it, just touching and spreading the lube around, taking it slow, letting him get used to just that touch and relax into it.

It seemed to grow on him after awhile, Bucky kissing him back a little harder and body becoming less tense, a few little sounds here and there making Steve suspect he might even enjoy it a bit. They stayed like that for a little while longer until Steve decided to take the next step, applying a little bit of pressure and paying careful attention to Bucky's cues. He trusted him to say if he needed to stop but that didn't make him any less determined to be as attentive as possible.

Bucky's breathing became more deliberate but he handled the change fine, both of them locked in a furious kiss until Steve finally pushed one finger inside, just the tip. Bucky's breath caught and he tensed up, brows knitting and an obviously pained sound leaving his lips, and Steve was quick to hold still and give him a moment while kissing along his jaw, his neck, anything he could reach, to try to melt some of that tension away.

"Sorry," he murmured just beneath Bucky's ear. "I'll stop if it's too m-"

"No, God, don't stop," Bucky insisted, barely realizing the near-death grip he had on Steve's hair. "Just need a minute. Don't stop."

"Okay, I won't," Steve assured him, continuing to kiss all over him and comfort him the only way that he could.

It took a little while but when Bucky's breathing finally began to even out and his body relaxed again, he gave Steve the green light with a sweet kiss and then he started moving again, as gentle and careful as he could manage. He worked his finger in a little bit more with each stroke until Bucky could take it fully, sweat forming on his brow and eyes shut as he adjusted to the very new and unfamiliar sensations.

"You doing okay?" Steve asked, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah, yeah," Bucky nodded quickly, opening his eyes to meet Steve's. "It's... it's better now. Just keep going."

Finding immense relief in those words, some of Steve's apprehension fell away and he focused fully on the task at hand, at getting Bucky ready and making this experience as good for him as he could. He could _feel_ him relaxing, accepting his touch now and even encouraging it once he started rocking back on his hand just a little bit. That was when Steve knew he was ready for more, and after a quickly murmured question to be sure, he added a second finger and watched Bucky's mouth fall open as he slowly worked him open.

He took the second much easier than the first, breathing through it and willing his body to relax and accept it. Steve was fascinated by it all, by the way it felt and the way Bucky was so pretty and quiet as they shared this new experience together, and in the back of his mind he recalled a few of the things he'd read about... all of _this_. He kept his fingers moving steadily and rhythmically and decided to try a few things out, test if what he'd read online was true or not.

They were in the midst of a lazily heated kiss the first time Steve curled his fingers. Bucky's breath hitched but he otherwise gave no other reactions, so on the next thrust of his hand Steve went a little deeper and did it again. This time it made Bucky's eyes pop open and his back arch off the bed and an incoherent noise of pleasure and bewilderment fly out of his open mouth, followed by a strangled " _What the fucking hell?!_ "

Naturally, Steve froze and instantly thought the worst. "Did that - did I hurt you or -"

"No, God, _fuck no_ , that was - _oh my God_ , do it again," Bucky all but demanded, which was _not_ was Steve had expected. Hoped for, yes, but certainly not expected.

"Really?" he grinned in a way that was slightly dopey before answering the wriggling Bucky was suddenly doing with another thrust of his fingers, doing exactly what he'd done before and pulling another heart-stopping moan from

Bucky's mouth.

"Holy fuck, that's - _fuck_ ," Bucky rambled, looking down as if he'd be able to see how the hell Steve was making him feel what he was feeling. Instead he saw himself spread out on that little bed, Steve's hand between his legs making him feel something that Google had most certainly not fully prepared him for. Especially not when Steve kept doing it again... and again... and again.

Within minutes Bucky was a writhing, whining mess, accepting a third and final finger with a slight wince that melted away once the pleasure started again. Steve watched him moan and rock down on his fingers in awe, mind blown by how much he was enjoying this and how good he made it look, how it had reduced him to a babbling wreck. They kissed hard and slightly sloppy through it all and Bucky kept his hand on Steve at all times, in his hair or on the back of his neck or on his shoulder, sometimes digging his fingertips into Steve's skin when it would all threaten to become too much.

"Oh my God, Steve," Bucky whined breathlessly between kisses, " _fuck_ this feels - it's so fuckin'... I had no idea..."

"Me either," Steve replied, expression and tone still utterly awestruck. "God, you look amazing like this."

And he truly did. But nothing could compare to the sight of Bucky meeting his gaze at those words and giving him a crooked little grin before it faded entirely as his head fell back into the pillow beneath it, his back arching and an almost startled moan ripping from his lips as he came untouched. Steve watched it all unfold with wide eyes, from the way Bucky's chest heaved to how he shuddered head to toe and the mess he made all over himself.

Turned out the Internet was even more helpful than Steve had initially realized.

"Holy fuck," Bucky gasped as he melted into the sheets beneath him, breathing hard and blinking up at the ceiling like he had no idea what had just happened. Steve carefully removed his fingers and cleaned them off on one of their discarded towels while Bucky recovered, returning to his side quickly and grinning as Bucky turned his head stared at him dazed and sort of dreamy.

"That was... more than I expected," Steve admitted, using the same towel to gently clean off Bucky's stomach and chest. "I mean... I knew what I was looking for, but... I didn't think that would happen like _that_."

"You and me both," Bucky replied with a breathless laugh. "Oh my _God_. If I'd known what that felt like... we would have been doing this from the start."

"That good, huh?" Steve grinned, tossing the towel aside and laying on his side next to Bucky, rolling him to face each other.

"Yeah. You're gonna have to feel it one of these days, too," Bucky replied lowly, sending a sudden shiver down Steve's spine. "But for now," he pushed Steve down on his back and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and tossing his hair back behind his shoulders, "we gotta finish what we started."

Steve couldn't help but swallow down a sudden lump in his throat, the sight of Bucky on top of him and already hard again - or maybe just still hard, it was difficult to tell with enhanced men like them - something he hadn't been prepared for. His hands went to Bucky's hips automatically and Bucky leaned down, right hand planted on the bed next to Steve's head as he murmured just an inch from his lips, "So... you sure about this?"

Steve stared up at him incredulously. "You really gotta ask me that? After everything we've done?"

"It's your first time, Steve," Bucky replied gently, sincerely. "Can't have any doubts. No second thoughts. Gotta be sure this is what you want. And that you want it with me."

"I want it, Buck," Steve whispered back, eyes never leaving Bucky's. "Nobody else I want it with."

"You're sure?"

Steve reached up and tucked one side of Bucky's hair behind his ears, a tender smile on his face as he replied softly, "If I wasn't I wouldn't be here. This is what I want. I want you."

Bucky stared at him for a moment before smiling back and nodding, leaning down to give him a sweet little kiss. "All right, Steve. I'll make a man outta you."

Steve immediately narrowed his eyes. "You sure got a mouth on you for a guy that's about to get fucked."

Bucky's eyebrows shot up and he grinned as he drawled in a tone of mock outrage, " _Captain America._.. in bed with his best friend... using language like that? What would the papers say? What a scandal... a symbol of virtue to the nation, naked and talking dirty and about to fuck another man in the -"

"You know what," Steve laughed, grabbing Bucky's hips and easily flipping them over, both of them laughing as Bucky hit the mattress again. "Keep running that mouth, Buck. See where it gets you."

"I don't know, I like where it's gotten me so far," Bucky grinned back, tossing a leg over Steve's hip and using it to pull him down lower. "And I kinda think you do too."

"Jerk," Steve murmured with pure affection, leaning down and kissing him like it was the natural thing in the world. And at that point, it just might have been.

A moment or two passed where they simply kissed and touched until they couldn't hold off anymore, Steve groping blindly along the bed looking for the damn lube again. When he couldn't find it Bucky started helping, eventually pulling it out from where it had been half wedged under his lower back. He offered it up to Steve with a smile that made them both laugh, Steve taking it and using it to get himself ready as they both felt their pulses pound in anticipation.

"All right," Steve said as he lowered himself over Bucky, one hand lining them up while the other steadied himself on the bed, his sweat-dampened hair falling into his eyes. "Ready?"

Bucky nodded, swallowing down a last minute flash of nerves. "Yeah, Steve."

Steve took a shaky, unsteady breath and began to carefully and as gently as possible press forward, slipping inside of the other man as slowly as he could manage. Everything he'd imagined as far as what this would feel like, what it would _be_ like to be inside of another person and feel that warmth and closeness... none of it could have prepared him for the real thing.

All the air was sucked out of his lungs with each inch he painstakingly took, mouth slowly falling further open as he was engulfed by the mind-bending tightness and heat, but somehow he kept enough of his wits about him to never take his eyes off of Bucky and make sure that he was okay. He'd gone tense again and, by the time Steve was nearly fully seated, stopped breathing entirely and was holding to Steve's shoulder like he'd fall apart without him there to anchor him.

"Hey," Steve whispered, voice strained and strangled but coherent, kissing the corner of Bucky's mouth to soothe him. "You okay?"

"M'fine, just..." He sucked in a few shallow breaths and bit his lip, closing his eyes and seeming to concentrate. "Hold on."

Steve was already still, kissing his jaw and his lips and his temple, anywhere and everywhere he could reach as he tried to soothe him, reminding him to keep breathing. He knew there was surely a big difference between taking a few fingers and taking _this_ , and he'd wait as long as it took, even if it killed him.

It struck him how special this was, how incredible it was that after all of these years and all that they'd been through, they could share this kind of _first_ together. For all of Bucky's prior experience that he had on Steve, here the playing field was level and he liked that. There were no expectations or pressures or anything to take away from the newness of it all, and that was something that Steve used to think he'd never really get to have.

But now here they were, closer than they'd ever thought they'd be, Steve watching as Bucky slowly relaxed and opened his eyes, telling him to start moving not with words but with a scratch of his short nails along Steve's shoulder and a lick of his hungry lips. Steve pressed their foreheads together and started slowly, cautiously rocking his hips, as determined to ease Bucky into it as he was to keep calm and not end things entirely too early despite how instantly overwhelmed he already was.

It took a few moments but eventually Bucky adjusted, coming back to life beneath Steve and starting to move with him in small, gradually building thrusts of his own. Once he did, Steve let out a shaky breath and asked just a breath away from his lips, "Better?"

"Much better," Bucky replied, hand sliding into Steve's hair to pull him down for a kiss. "You're just a lot to take."

Steve grinned against his lips. "Yeah?"

"Shut up and start fucking me, Steve," Bucky shot back, _really_ moving with him now. "I'm not gonna break."

Steve lost his breath again, instinct taking over once again as he answered those words with a deep thrust that made them both moan, Bucky's head sinking deeper into his pillow and nearly hitting the wall behind it. Steve easily moved them down the bed a few inches and wrapped a hand over the top of Bucky's head, his fingers curling into his hair as he started working out a new and deeper rhythm that had him knowing in an instant, beyond a single doubt, that he wasn't ever gonna be able to get enough of this.

It was all low groans and rough breaths as they hit their stride, Bucky getting his legs around Steve's waist and gasping out a moan at what the slight change of angle did for him. Steve took note of that and played around with their placement until he was holding up one of Bucky's legs and driving into him in a way that made Bucky nearly _shout_ just like he had before, and Steve knew he'd found the right spot again.

"You feel amazing," he told Bucky breathlessly between a few rough and hurried kisses, the heat between them overtaking his body and pleasure blinding him. " _God, Bucky_..."

" _More_ , Steve," Bucky gasped softly, both of them surprised by how greedy he was for this and how needy. "C'mon, I want it..."

Steve couldn't think when Bucky talked like that, couldn't see or hear anything beyond the man beneath him and his overwhelming need to make him lose his mind again. "This what you want?" he asked lowly as he took him harder, faster, watching his mouth fall open and utterly wrecked noises come flying out of it.

Bucky was a mess, tears stinging his eyes and body on the verge of exploding in a way he'd never felt before. " _Oh_ Steve, _fuck_ , I'm gonna come, I'm gonna -"

Steve could feel it too, feel himself nearing the point of no return and he had no idea how he'd lasted as long as he had. "Go on, Buck, come for me," he whispered, too far gone to blush at his own words or have any filter left at all as he moaned and cursed, light bursting behind his eyes as he and Bucky came together.

It washed over him like fire and water all at once, feeling it from the top of his head to the tips of his toes and everywhere in between. The only thing better than the mind-melting pleasure he felt himself was watching the same thing play out on Bucky's face, the wonder and the sweetness of it, the way every last bit of tension in his body and face melted away and left him in a state of utter peace and bliss.

If Steve could, he'd stay with him forever in that euphoric state. He'd stay and hold him and they'd live forever like that, all their troubles and pain and past trauma a whole world away.

But he couldn't. It didn't work like that. All the more reason, he thought as he buried his face in Bucky's neck and collapsed happily on top of him, knowing he could take his weight just fine, to steal as many of these carefree and incredible moments as they could.

They stayed like that for as long as they could, until they were both nearly half asleep and a sudden loud rumble of thunder made them both jump. Then they both chuckled, Steve lifting off of Bucky and smiling down at him as he brushed away a few strands of hair from his flushed face. "Sorry."

"S'okay," Bucky smiled back, his voice low and dripping with satisfaction. His eyes were heavy and a little watery, expression carrying that dreamy quality from before but even deeper this time as he stared up at Steve.

Steve wasn't sure what to say, none of the words that came to mind feeling nearly good enough for a moment like this. He decided to say nothing at all and kiss him gently instead, lingering above him and both of them enjoying the calm after the storm.

But eventually Steve _had_ to move and clean them up. He finally slipped out of Bucky and quietly apologized at the slight wince it caused him, leaving his side briefly and returning with a cool wet towel. It was hot in the little hut, damn near stifling after all the heat they'd generated within the small space.

After he was finished, Steve slipped back into the bed and gathered Bucky into his arms, asking after Bucky winced at all the shifting around, "You okay?"

"Sore," Bucky grinned up at him, happy to lay his head on Steve's chest. "But I expected that, so..."

"Sorry," Steve grinned back, blushing a little.

"Worth it," Bucky murmured, leaning up to give him a kiss. "So... how's it feel not being a virgin anymore?"

Steve took a breath and smiled, looking away to feign giving the question very serious consideration. "Well... one thing I can say is... it ain't overrated, that's for sure."

Bucky's smile widened. "Lived up to your expectations?"

Steve shook his head. "No," he replied tenderly. "Exceeded them."

"Good," Bucky said quietly, running his hand along Steve's chest absently, affectionately. "What kind of friend would I be if I let you miss out on one of the best parts of life, right?"

"A terrible one," Steve joked back, lips brushing his forehead. "But you're... more than that now anyway, I think."

He _felt_ the way Bucky paused at that, his easy and sleepy demeanor shifting to something a little more alert and maybe careful. Steve was afraid that he'd said too much or said the wrong thing until Bucky said, "Shuri asks me all the time _how's your boyfriend?_ and I always laugh because it just feels... strange, I guess. I mean," he gestured vaguely with his hand, "I guess that's the right word, but it just feels..."

"... Silly?" Steve guessed. "Like we're kind of... past that already?"

"Yeah, sort of," Bucky nodded. "I don't know if there really _is_ a word for you and me. For us."

Steve could think of one word that instantly sprang to mind, but he decided to keep it to himself for the time being. He didn't want to risk letting the magic of the night slip away or be compromised in any fashion.

"... Know what I just realized?"

Steve blinked and opened his eyes, only then noticing that he'd shut them in the first place. "What?"

"Our clothes from earlier are soaked," Bucky said. "And everything else was on the clothesline. And we didn't bring any of it in before the storm."

"... Oh."

"Yeah. So..." Bucky sighed and got more comfortable, closing his eyes with his arm draped loosely over Steve's middle. "Guess we're gonna be naked all day tomorrow."

"That's... terrible news," Steve replied, not even trying to hide the grin on his face. "I don't know how we'll manage."

"Me either," Bucky yawned. "Might as well just stay in bed, take the day off."

"Yeah," Steve agreed, eyes closing and smile lingering. "Hopefully we'll figure out a way to stay occupied."

"Mhm. Might have a few ideas."

"I might have a few, too."

Bucky groaned and pressed a sleepy kiss just under Steve's collarbone, mumbling against his skin, "Sleep first."

"Sleep first," Steve agreed, brushing a soft kiss to Bucky's forehead and drifting off within seconds, safe and warm and happy to spend another blissful night in his favorite place on Earth.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: heyyyyyy guys sorry for the wait and for my general lack of presence here on FF as of late (especially with TDDUP), I have no excuses other than the usual ones of real life getting in the way and kids taking up most of my time (as they should, lol) and my muse deserting me in everything besides Stucky, so... here we are lol. But I love you all dearly and I hope you'll like this chapter :) you can follow me on Tumblr if ya wanna at murder-daddy-bucky (or just yell at me for taking a zillion years to write anything, I'll understand lol), I love & miss you guys :') and for this particular story, only one left and it's finished! Hope you guys likey and again... I'm sorry ahhhhhhhh lol *hugs***

"How is it that you've got friends everywhere," Sam asked Natasha in between stuffing his face with the vaguely mysterious but delicious concoction on his plate, "all over the damn globe, and almost all of them just happen to be connected to food?"

"Are you complaining?" Natasha retorted playfully, raising an eyebrow at him from across their small table in the restaurant's corner. "I think expanding your culinary horizons is an unexpected benefit of our little secret missions."

"It is but I'm just saying," Sam gestured to their surroundings. "We're in the middle of nowhere, Turkey, and I have no idea what I'm eating but it might be the best thing I've ever had. Isn't this the best thing you've ever had, Steve?"

Steve looked up from his plate and considered that for a moment, chewing his latest bite and swallowing before ultimately replying, "It's pretty damn good, but no. Not _quite_ the best."

"And what's the best?" Natasha asked. "Some burger you could only get a certain soda fountain in Brooklyn back in the good ol' days?"

Steve gave her an amused look and shook his head. "Close, but no. Actually... to be honest, the food in Wakanda's the best."

Sam groaned and tossed his hands in the air as he leaned back in his seat. "Aw hell, you're gonna rub it in like that? How long you gonna hold out on us?"

"Relax," Natasha chuckled. "You know it's safer this way."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it. When do I get my Wakandan vacation? Can I complain to HR? Oh wait that's right - we're international fugitives and I've got nobody to report my cruel and unusual treatment to."

"I'll get right on that," Steve replied, wry grin on his face. "At least Nat keeps us well fed, right?"

Sam made a _pfft_ noise and stood up, replying, "And I keep us well hydrated. More drinks?"

"Please," Nat smiled as Sam walked off to grab another round. She then turned her gaze to Steve who had pulled out his phone and was now smiling at it softly, and she knew the look well by now. He only smiled like that for one person. "How's the boyfriend?"

Steve sighed and raised his eyes to hers. "Do you have to call him that?"

"What else would you like me to call him? Your loverboy? Friend with benefits? Pretty sure boyfriend covers it best."

Steve glanced back at his phone and gave a small shrug, smile growing a little. "To answer your question, he's doing great. Got a new arm."

"Oh, fancy new Vibranium arm?" Natasha replied lightly. "That should be fun."

"Yeah," Steve replied absently, reading over his and Bucky's texts without really paying attention. Then he blinked and realized what she was getting at, tossing her another slightly exasperated look before muttering, "You just can't help yourself, can you?"

She shook her head and he merely smiled and turned his attention back to his phone. He wasn't sure where he'd be without Natasha, all good natured teasing aside.

He and Bucky had been chatting off and on all day during their travels. They were chasing a lead through Turkey and would leave in the morning for Cyprus, but Steve always made time when he could to check his phone and see what Bucky was up to. Bucky had been particularly chatty today, both nervous and excited prior to heading to Shuri's lab to be fitted with the new prosthetic limb, and once it was on he'd sent Steve no less than three pictures and, rather adorably, a string of emojis expressing how pleased he was with it.

 _It's so much lighter_ , he'd said. _I can feel more with it, too. And it doesn't have the fucking star which might be the best part_

 _That's great,_ Steve had replied. _Hurt at all?_

 _Not at all. The kids are fascinated by it. I just lifted all three of them and swung them around at the same time with it_

 _Jesus, be careful,_ came Steve's reply _. But I'm real glad you like it_

 _I do. When you think you'll come by again?_

 _Not sure,_ Steve had replied honestly. Things were as unpredictable as ever these days _. Who's asking?_

 _Just a guy thinking about everything he can do with two hands_

;)

The silly winking emoji is what had caused Steve's little smile that Natasha had caught, and now, back in the present moment, he was typing his reply. _Can't imagine what all that might be_. He then locked his phone and set it on his thigh, reaching for his water glass and noticing out of the corner of his eye the way Nat was _still_ watching him cheekily as he raised the glass to his lips. " _What_?"

"You top, right?"

He choked on the mouthful of water he'd picked the absolute worst time to drink, and Sam returned with drinks in hand before he could sputter out any kind of reply or Nat could press any further.

Then, after assuring Sam he was fine and glaring at Nat a little bit for good measure, his phone buzzed and the lingering blush on his cheeks definitely wasn't going anywhere once he read Bucky's incoming text.

 _You don't have to imagine anything cause I'm gonna show you next time I see you_

Steve read the words and willed himself to stay calm and ignore the sudden thrill in his veins and all the little images that burst forth in his head at lightning speed. Before he could do anything Bucky sent yet another message.

 _Miss you, Steve_

Steve blew out a breath lightly, vaguely hearing Sam and Nat bickering amicably about something or another as his thumb tapped away at the keyboard. He didn't have to think about his reply, the words coming automatically.

 _Miss you too. Wish I was there._

And he truly did. He loved Sam and Nat and believed in what they were doing with everything in him, but at the risk of sounding unbearably sentimental... he'd left his heart in Wakanda. It was the only place he felt whole and like peace wasn't just some pleasant sounding but ultimately nonexistent concept.

 _Wish you were too_ , Bucky replied quickly, Steve reading the words quietly as he ate. _Your hands always feel better than mine._

Steve tried his best to hide the little grin trying to break through the surface but he just couldn't help himself. The instant flash of memories through his mind left a flush on his cheeks, each of them vivid enough to _feel_. The way Bucky's lips parted as he moaned into Steve's mouth when Steve touched him, stroking him the way he liked it, hard and smooth and pulsing under his hand...

 _Wish I had my hands on you right now_ , Steve replied, feeling a rush of excitement in sending those words that he hadn't anticipated. It was also extremely bad timing for the entire idea but he couldn't change that now. All he could do was set his phone back down and join back in on the conversation while his mind continued to drift further and further away, wondering what Bucky was doing during this particular exchange and what he'd say next.

He was listening to Natasha recount their last mission and how she'd saved Sam from having his head vaporized by the strange Chitauri tech they were hunting down ("Face it, Wilson, you'd be lost without me." "You're right, it's all dumb luck that I survived so long without you." "I'm glad you agree.") when he felt his phone buzz again. Heart thudding with another rush of nerves, he swiped the screen and got a whole lot more than he bargained for.

 _Guess I'll have to settle for mine instead_ was Bucky's reply, just underneath a picture he'd sent. And it wasn't just any picture. It was one he'd taken of himself, sprawled out on his little bed with his pants pushed down seemingly hastily with his brand new vibranium hand wrapped around his hard and very much exposed length, grasping it and showing it off and -

Steve's brows knit together and he stopped breathing without realizing it. He didn't hear Nat saying his name until it was too late, when she was leaning over to glance down and see what the hell was so interesting on his phone that he was ignoring her question of whether he wanted dessert or not.

"... Oh," she said remarkably nonchalantly, one eyebrow arched as she tilted her head. "That's a hell of a... cocker spaniel."

Choking on absolutely nothing, Steve then grasped his phone so clumsily and erratically that he ended up knocking it on the floor near his feet with a loud and conspicuous clank. He cursed and dove under the table to grab it, the screen still open to the damn picture, and when he banged his head on the edge of the table on his way up, he cursed again and Sam stared at him like he'd suddenly sprouted three new heads.

"You okay, man?"

"I'm fine," Steve shook his head, face aflame and body flushed with both the good and bad kinds of heat. He was gonna _kill_ Bucky for this.

"... You sure about that?" Sam asked skeptically while Nat continued to remain incredibly passive, though the glimmer in her eye gave away just how much hell she was gonna give Steve later over this.

"Yes," Steve muttered through gritted teeth. "Excuse me," he added quickly, deciding he needed a moment or two or ten to collect himself. Phone shoved down into his pocket, he stood up and made a beeline for the men's room.

Back at the table, Sam blinked and asked Nat, "Did you say something about a dog?"

The bathroom was empty and small, only one stall to speak of, and Steve threw himself inside of it and locked it before letting out a deep sigh and leaning his head back against the door. Before he could think twice about his next course of action, he reached down and grabbed his phone, jabbed at the screen twice and then placed it to his ear.

Bucky answered after one and a half rings. "Hey, pal," he drawled, amusement more than clear in his teasing, velvety tone.

"The hell do you think you're doing, Buck?" Steve rasped, trying to sound angry but instead sounding merely uselessly aroused. "I'm at a _restaurant_."

"Well, how was I supposed to know that?" Bucky chuckled, entirely unfazed. "Figured you were in bed too, the way you were talking to me."

Steve dragged his free hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes. "You can't just... can't just send me pictures like _that_ outta nowhere. I need some warning."

"All right, fair enough," Bucky mused. "From now on I'll let you know first whenever I feel like showing you what I'm doin' to myself."

Steve paused, biting his lip unconsciously. "Yeah. Please do."

"... But you liked it, right?"

Steve's eyes rolled shut and he knocked his head back against the door again. His pants were entirely too tight and he just wanted to reach down and take himself in hand and... but he couldn't and _damn_ Bucky for doing this to him. "What do you think?"

Bucky's chuckle was entirely too self-satisfied for Steve's liking. "Thought you would. God I miss you, Steve."

"I miss you too," Steve replied tenderly, unable to help himself. His eyes flew open when Bucky responded with a moan, low and faint but unmistakable. "Bucky, _are you_ -"

"Just the sound of your voice, _fuck_ ," Bucky nearly gasped, undoubtedly working himself with each word he spoke, maybe even with the new vibranium hand like in the picture. "You're killing me, Steve."

"... I'm killing _you_?" Steve asked incredulously. "Buck -"

"God if you were here," Bucky murmured, interrupting whatever Steve had planned to sputter out. "If you were here I'd hold you down and ride you til we both fuckin' lost it."

The sound that left Steve's throat was some kind of strangled mix of a moan and a gasp, and his free hand slipped down to rub over the growing hardness in his pants seemingly of its own will. "You gotta stop, Buck, or I'm..."

"You're what? Gonna come all over yourself? Wouldn't be so bad, would it?"

" _Fuck_ ," Steve groaned, touching himself more firmly, more purposefully, all the reasons why he shouldn't do this seeming to fade under the desire. "You never fuckin' listen, do you?"

Bucky chuckled, knowing he had him now. "Shut up and let me hear you moan, Steve."

"You're gonna pay for this later," Steve muttered, unzipping his pants and taking himself fully in hand, damn all his better judgment. Bucky had no idea what he was in for once Steve made his way back to Wakanda, that much was certain.

"I sure fuckin' hope so."

* * *

As unexpected as the little bathroom incident was for Steve, even more so was the rough turn the mission took in Cyprus. Their target was well prepared in his little bunker, more so than they had anticipated, and while they still took him and his terror cell down in the end, it cost Sam the use of his right arm for the next six weeks or so.

It was stupid, _stupid_ , and Steve had watched the whole thing as it happened. Sam had been covering Nat on the ground, dropping down from the sky to intervene when they were pinned down. Eventually he ran out of ammo in his guns and it came down to hand to hand, and his arm had snapped under the booted foot of a particularly large thug.

Sam, of course, brushed it off after the fact like it was nothing. He'd broken his arm on a playground when he was 9, he said - same one and everything. No big deal, it'd heal, and the injury wasn't anyone's fault but the man who'd inflicted it.

But the thing was, Steve already internalized a ridiculous amount of guilt and Sam's broken arm was the straw that broke the camel's back. When he had first met Sam he had been living a stable life with a stable, valuable job, the rest of his life ahead of him to do whatever the hell he wanted. Now he was an international fugitive who had to watch out for police and traffic cams, his life on hold while he risked it on their secret missions. This time it was a broken arm but maybe next time...

But of course, Sam wasn't having any of that. In fact, once Steve's brooding became unbearable, Sam all but threw Steve out of their safe house one afternoon and said, "Go get on the Quinjet and go take another vacation."

Steve had, naturally, protested immediately. "But Sam -"

"But nothing," Natasha interjected, tossing Steve's own bag at him which she had taken the liberty of packing for him. "Go before you drive us both up the wall."

Steve eyed them both with a distinct lack of amusement. "You can't just banish me to Wakanda."

"The hell I can't," Sam retorted. "You always come back all bright and shiny and shit and you could use some of that right now, so..." He gestured to the front door with his good arm. "Go on, man."

In the end, Steve couldn't argue with either one of them. He hugged them both and made them promise to contact him at the slightest hiccup, and then he was off and using the coordinates he'd long since memorized to visit Wakanda once again.

He felt lighter as soon as he entered the hidden nation's airspace. It was early afternoon when he touched down and made directly for Bucky's hut, knowing that their gracious royal hosts wouldn't mind if Steve skipped the formalities for now.

He saw Bucky as soon as he began his descent down the hill that led to the farm, working on the fencing and hammering away on a section that he was repairing. His new left arm glinted in the sunlight, dark metal overlaying the golden vibranium base, and to Steve's surprise... he was shirtless.

He was also alone, not surrounded by the neighbor children like Steve was used to. Steve didn't realize how much he was smiling already until Bucky paused in his hammering and glanced over his shoulder, long hair down and a mess around his face. Bucky's expression instantly shifted from focused and slightly grumpy to surprised and then delighted, a gorgeous crooked smile gracing his features as he dropped the hammer to the ground and straightened up as Steve approached.

"Would it kill you to give me some warning one of these days?" Bucky asked, grin widening as Steve closed in on him.

"In my defense, I didn't know I was coming today either," Steve chuckled, opening his arms and pulling Bucky into a warm hug. He was sweaty and sticky and smelled like the farm and Steve couldn't have possibly cared less. Everything about him felt like _home_.

"I guess I can let it slide," Bucky murmured as they pulled away just far enough to look at each other. "How long you here this time?"

"Don't know yet," Steve replied, looking over Bucky's new arm and reaching down to take his hand. He lifted it up to gaze at his fingers, the intricate design and details fascinating him. He rubbed his fingers over his knuckles and then pressed a kiss to them, feeling a little silly about it until he peeked up and saw the way that Bucky was looking at him.

Reaching his flesh hand behind Steve's head, Bucky pulled him close and kissed him slow and sweet. Their hands still entangled, Steve kissed him back and slid his free arm around Bucky's waist, every point of contact between them a soothing balm to his very soul.

The kiss was lazy and perfect, neither of them wanting to part when they did but needing the air. Steve leaned his forehead against Bucky's and muttered, "I've missed you, Buck."

Bucky grinned at him. "Missed you too, pal." Then they were kissing again, hands untangling to hold each other closer as they kissed more deeply this time.

Bucky was so warm and tasted so sweet and so comforting, everything about him making every inch of Steve come to life. The very moment their tongues brushed together and Bucky's hands grasped Steve's hips through his jeans, Steve was ready to drag Bucky inside and toss him down on the bed, pull his pants off and slip between those strong legs of his and -

 _Thwack_.

Steve jolted away from Bucky with a loud smack of their lips, having just been pelted in the head with - what the hell _was_ that? "What the -"

Bucky merely sighed and rolled his eyes, gesturing to the nearby large tree that his goats were basking in the shade of. "It's the kids. They're up in the tree."

Steve furrowed his brows at Bucky and then squinted up at the tree, where he did indeed spot the three laughing children as they began to toss more tree nuts their way. Steve sighed and waved at the kids, smiling when they began to shout their nickname for him - _uzulani_ , or nomad - along with a string of other words Steve couldn't understand.

"What are they saying?"

Bucky grinned at Steve and shrugged, "Pretty sure I heard the word _husband_ in there somewhere."

Steve chuckled and shook his head, glancing up at the kids again and catching one of the nuts mid-air. He tossed it back to them with a precision that made them _ooh_ and _ahh_ , and then Steve turned back to Bucky and said, "Can we go inside for a few minutes?"

"Why?" Bucky smirked despite knowing exactly _why_.

"Because," Steve replied quietly, reaching between them and looping his index finger into one of the belt loops of Bucky's weathered jeans. He looked Bucky in the eyes and added, "I wanna... talk to you a minute."

Glancing down at Steve's finger curled around his belt loop, Bucky chuckled, "Talk, huh? Is that all you wanna do?"

"What do you think?" Steve asked rhetorically before stealing another kiss, both of them smiling into it.

"Easy there, pal," Bucky grinned, gently pushing him away. "I've gotta finish this damn fence."

Steve tried not to pout, he really did, but he might have anyway. Just a little bit. "I'll help you finish it later."

Bucky shook his head, backing up and picking the hammer up off of the ground. "Work first, play later."

Steve narrowed his eyes at him playfully, running a hand through his now-mussed hair and watching as Bucky turned around and got back to work. He wasn't surprised - Bucky had always been the responsible one, after all.

He took a deep breath full of the warm, clean air and then stepped up next to Bucky, grabbing a piece of wood and getting to work with him. They shared a brief, knowing grin and then worked together to get the fence done, finishing it in half the time Bucky would have spent on it otherwise.

And the minute it was done, Steve dragged Bucky into the hut for the _talk_ that he'd wanted to have with him so badly.

* * *

"Fuck, _Steve_ ," Bucky moaned breathlessly as he rocked himself up and down in Steve's lap, both of them naked and slick with sweat and clinging to each other tightly as they moved together. Steve's hands were on Bucky's hips but Bucky didn't need any support to fuck himself on Steve's cock as hard and fast as he wanted, metal hand curled in Steve's hair and the other clutching his shoulder, body rolling with the motions like some kind of dream that Steve couldn't take his eyes off of.

Steve watched him in awe, overcome with the sensations and the sights and the perfection of it all, the way that they fit and moved together and how easy and _right_ it was. The slight furrow of Bucky's brow, the sweat-dampened long dark hair in his face, the way that his gorgeous mouth hung open and let out the sweetest sounds... how had Steve ever lived without this?

"Buck," Steve groaned, hands sliding up his back and then down again, smoothing over his ass before gripping it tight. Steve kissed over Bucky's chest and collarbone, lips kissing and dragging over the jagged scars on his left shoulder and not shying away from them, groaning into his skin as Bucky rode him relentlessly.

Bucky gripped his hair and wrenched his head back, leaning down for a gloriously sloppy kiss that both of them moaned into. "Close, Steve?" Bucky asked against his lips, body trembling and thrusts growing erratic.

"So close," Steve panted, reaching up to brush back Bucky's hair from both of their faces. "Faster, baby, please..."

He hadn't meant to let that word slip out, the term of endearment feeling silly the minute it hit his ears, but his knee-jerk embarrassment faded when he peeked up to find a sweet, surprised smile on Bucky's face. Bucky cupped his jaw and leaned in for another kiss, this one slower and sweeter even as his body started moving faster, driving them both to the edge of bliss. They tumbled over together, holding each other tight and gasping against each other's lips, their reunion as sweet and as exquisite as Steve had hoped that it would be.

Not that he had ever really had a doubt. Bucky stayed right where he was as they recovered, arms wrapped around Steve and head resting on his shoulder, bodies still very much joined together. Steve closed his eyes and enjoyed the closeness, fingertips tracing along Bucky's spine and mind more at peace than it had been since... well, since the last time he'd been here with him.

" _Fuck_ ," Bucky groaned when he finally straightened up, expression one of pure satisfaction as he looked Steve over. He leaned back and dragged his eyes over the mess he'd made on Steve's stomach and chest, lips quirking up in a smirk. "You know, Steve," he said lowly, eyes lifting back up to meet Steve's hooded ones, "You look good covered in my come."

Steve raised an eyebrow, pretending that those words and the low purr of Bucky's voice hadn't made him shiver. He licked his lips and pondered his answer, settling on the first one that came to mind. " _You_ look good with my cock inside you."

Bucky chuckled and leaned in to kiss him, muttering, "I bet I do," before capturing his lips in a sweet, lazy kiss. "Sure feels good."

"Yeah?" Steve murmured, tucking his hair behind his ear. "What's it feel like?"

Bucky paused, searching for the right words. "It's... hard to even put into words," he began, biting his lip as his eyes drifted down. "It feels... _full_. More full than you can imagine. It's so different from anything else, but it's fuckin' amazing and... then when you hit that spot over and over..." He shook his head and grinned up at Steve. "You know what it does to me."

"Yeah," Steve mused, mulling those words over, expression contemplative.

"Why? You curious?" Bucky grinned.

Steve gave a non-committal shrug, trying to play it cool. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Bucky repeated with amusement. "You been thinking about takin' my cock up that pretty little ass, Steve?"

Steve's blush was instant and uncontrollable, unpleasantly hot in his cheeks as he sighed and replied, " _Pretty_?"

"Everything about you's pretty," Bucky pointed out, stealing a quick little kiss from his lips. "Always has been."

Steve stared at him, a little surprised at those words as they hung between them. He opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by a sudden and quick series of little knocks on the door.

"Fuckin' hell," Bucky grumbled before quickly sliding off of Steve's lap, both of them immediately on a mission to clean up as quickly as possible. Bucky tossed Steve a towel and then yelled towards the door to wait a minute as they quickly toweled off and then tossed clothes on, Bucky grabbing Steve's shirt and throwing it on and leaving Steve with just his jeans to redress in. He'd just finished buckling his belt when Bucky opened the door just enough to stick his head out.

Steve hung back and listened as Bucky spoke in Xhosa to the kids, who were the unsurprising culprits for the interruption. They talked back and forth for a moment until Bucky sent them back on their way and shut the door, turning around and grinning, "Sorry about that."

"What'd they want?"

"There's a festival in the village today," Bucky replied. "Sounds like it might be fun. They wanted to know if we wanted to go."

Steve nodded. "Do you want to?"

"Only if you want to," Bucky replied with a slight shrug.

Steve nodded again, not really having to contemplate the matter. How long had it been since he'd done anything just for fun, let alone just for fun with Bucky by his side? "Well... I'll need a shirt."

* * *

Bucky kept Steve's shirt and lent him one of his own. Steve liked that, even though the shirt was just barely a bit too snug on him.

They went to the festival as planned, the afternoon and early evening cooling down with the help of a luxurious breeze that swept through their little corner of the nation. The village was an outlying one found on the other side of the hill, a smaller but lively one that came together to have a good time that night.

There was musicians playing catchy and hypnotic tunes, merchants selling handmade goods, mouthwatering foods of all different sorts being cooked to order, and most important of all, people talking and laughing and enjoying one another's company. It had been way too long since Steve had seen anything like it.

The kids quickly caught up with them and started leading them around, pointing them in the direction of the best food and making sure they tried everything they could. Steve could see in Bucky's eyes and genuine smiles how much he loved it here and how much he loved the people, the kids, everything about Wakanda. It made Steve's heart feel less heavy and burdened to see him so happy and so free, but it didn't lift the weight of the world from his own shoulders. He wished that it did.

As they strolled through the festival, Steve's mind eventually drifted a million miles away only to be pulled back to the present by Bucky unexpectedly taking his hand in his flesh one and interlacing their fingers, walking together like any regular couple would. Steve glanced at Bucky in surprise and Bucky only smiled, no words needed.

It really was a perfect day, Steve had to admit. And yet by the end of it, as they made their way back to Bucky's hut, Steve still felt that heaviness that he just couldn't shake. He knew that it showed on his face and that Bucky knew it.

"So... let me guess," Bucky said as he sat down in the grass on the hill overlooking the river he liked to swim in, the same one he and Steve had slept beneath the stars on some months prior. "Mission went bad?"

Steve sighed and sat down next to him, staring down at his hands as he dropped them to his lap. "That obvious?"

"I can tell when something's eating you," Bucky replied softly. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't wanna."

Steve gave a brief shake of his head. "Sam got hurt. Nothing critical, just a broken arm, but... it's not the injury itself. It's what could have happened. It's... it's the whole damn mess I've dragged him and everyone else I care about into."

Bucky nodded, fiddling with a blade of grass between his metal fingers. "They chose that, though. They could have chosen the other side."

"Still not right," Steve muttered. "Sam, he had a life before all of this. So did Nat, so did Wanda. Everyone."

"What about you?"

Steve huffed a humorless laugh. "Yeah, what about me."

Bucky lifted his eyes from the grass to his friend, his tone gentle as he murmured, "Steve..."

"That's part of what's getting to me," Steve said, brows furrowed and eyes still cast down on his fidgeting fingers. "I can't see past the next fight. I haven't been able to in a long time. And when I'm here with you, I feel better, I feel... I feel okay. But I know it won't last and that soon enough I'll go back and... I don't know what I'm doing."

"You're helping people," Bucky replied. "It's all you've ever done. You fight the battles they can't."

"That's what I've _tried_ to do," Steve stressed. "But I don't know if I am anymore."

"Then stop," Bucky shrugged. "Stay here with me. You've given the world enough, Steve. You gave it enough a long time ago."

Steve finally met Bucky's gaze, a brokenness evident in his eyes that Bucky hated to see but knew all too well. "Would you believe me if I said staying scares me more than leaving?"

Bucky's expression grew pained, a tightness in his features that made Steve's heart ache. "I already know that. And I get why you feel that way. I do. When you're fighting and focusing on the next mission you don't have time to sit and wonder what the hell you're doing with your life and what's gonna be left of it when you're old."

The mere mention of such an idea left Steve's skin feeling prickly, his nerves on edge. He hated feeling that way more than anything but he didn't know how to stop. He looked away, taking a deep breath and trying to center himself before a panic attack could take root and ruin the entire rest of the night.

"Hey," Bucky murmured gently, getting up to his feet and reaching for Steve's hand. "C'mon, get up." When Steve looked up at him hesitant and unsure, Bucky added, "We're both broken kids in the wrong year and the wrong place. Nothing's ever gonna fix that. But it doesn't mean we gotta be miserable."

Steve took his hand and let Bucky pull him up to his feet, his brain needing a moment to decipher what it was about that sentence that struck him as so very different. Then he realized it - everyone had been calling him an old man for so long that he'd almost started to believe it. But in truth he and Bucky were so very, very young, barely in their 30s in terms of actual lived years. They were too young to carry so much, too young to have seen so much and endure the things that they had.

But yet here they were, still standing and still breathing and, even more odds-defying, still together. Steve stared at Bucky, wondering what he had up his sleeve as he glanced up at the beautiful, clear starry night sky above them.

"Y'know," Bucky said, eyes still on the stars, "I remember I used to be real romantic. Or I tried to be, anyway."

"Yeah, you were," Steve mused. "The girls loved you."

Bucky nodded, eyes falling to the ground beneath their feet as he chuckled, "I remember taking one up on a roof in Brooklyn on a night like this in the summer - '38, maybe - and dancing with her under the stars. She loved it."

"I bet she did," Steve replied with a half-smile, looking out over the hill towards the river. It was the picture of serenity, and just looking at it made Steve feel a little more at ease.

"Wanna dance with me, Steve?"

Steve whipped his head around in surprise, finding Bucky looking a bit unsure as he smiled at him and waited for his answer. Steve blinked and raised his eyebrows. " _Me_?"

" _Yeah_ you," Bucky laughed softly, shifting on his feet a bit and suddenly Steve realized - he was _nervous_.

"I don't... I've still never danced," Steve replied, now nervous too. "And there's no music, either."

Bucky was quick to fish his phone out of his pocket, noting with a grin, "I can change that."

Steve watched in surprise as Bucky scrolled through what appeared to be a fairly lengthy music library before settling on one, checking that the volume was as high as it would go and then setting up the phone on the ground. Then as the opening notes to the song began to play, Steve recognizing the tune instantly, Bucky held out his right hand in an open invitation, expression still just a little nervous, and Steve couldn't help but smile.

"Don't complain when I step on your feet," Steve said, taking Bucky's hand and letting him pull himself closer. He felt a little awkward and irrationally nervous but the minute Bucky's metal arm was around his waist and his right hand fingers interlacing with his own, he immediately felt more at home.

"I think I can handle it," Bucky replied with a smile mirroring Steve's own, and then he started slowly moving them about, the vibrant green grass rustling beneath their feet.

 _I'll be seeing you_

 _In all the old familiar places_

 _That this heart of mine embraces_

 _All day and through_

The music washing over them, Steve let out a deep breath and let himself relax as Bucky led their dance. He simply felt too comfortable in Bucky's arms to be nervous, knowing that if he did step on his feet or make a fool out of himself, Bucky wouldn't care. And as they swayed about, Steve had to admit... it was kinda nice.

 _In that small cafe_

 _The park across the way_

 _The children's carousel_

 _The chestnut trees, the wishing well_

 _I'll be seeing you_

 _In every lovely summer's day_

 _In everything that's light and gay_

 _I'll always think of you that way_

"You ever dance to this with a girl, back in the day?" Steve asked. He felt Bucky's slight chuckle against his neck.

"Probably. Some of those memories are fuzzy," he admitted. "You probably remember better than I do."

Steve sighed, those words definitely ringing true. He laid his head down on Bucky's shoulder and watched as fireflies flickered by, replying, "You always made it look so easy."

"It's only _really_ easy when it's with the right person," Bucky murmured, nuzzling the back of Steve's head. "See?"

Steve smiled to himself and closed his eyes. "Yeah. Guess you're right."

 _I'll find you in the morning sun_

 _And when the night is new_

 _I'll be looking at the moon_

 _But I'll be seeing you_

All those years, Steve never would have guessed that one day the right person would be Bucky. But every new step they took together, including sharing Steve's first-ever dance under the stars, never felt anything but natural and right. It was a balm to Steve's soul, a much-needed one in his current state.

Then Bucky brought a wide smile to Steve's face by gently putting distance between them only so that he could slowly twirl Steve out and then pull him back in. Steve laughed until they were chest to chest again, not thinking anything of pulling him in for a kiss the moment they were close enough. They both smiled into the kiss, the song that they'd danced to coming to a close and leaving them standing in the near-silence of the night.

Bucky ran his fingers through Steve's hair, eyes falling to Steve's lips and slowly flickering back up as he murmured, "I've got an idea."

"What's that?" Steve asked quietly, hands finding Bucky's hips over his jeans.

"Let's go home," Bucky said, leaning in for one more short, sweet kiss, "and I'll show you."

Steve quirked an eyebrow but Bucky merely smirked and picked up his phone, pushing it into his pocket before taking Steve's hand and leading him back to his hut.

Steve wasn't sure to what to expect, but the luxury of trusting Bucky fully in whatever it might be was something he'd never take for granted.

* * *

"Clothes off. Lay back on the bed."

Steve tilted his head and smirked as he reached down for the hem of his shirt. "Givin' me orders tonight, Buck?"

Bucky grinned as he stepped out of his boots, undressing as Steve did the same. "Not really. That's not what I wanna do."

Shirt on the floor, Steve quickly did away with the rest of his clothes and then laid back on the bed, pushing up until his head hit the pillow. "What _do_ you wanna do?"

Bucky, his shirt gone and stepping out of his jeans, now as naked as Steve was, lifted his eyes and let them rake over the sight that Steve made. He was sprawled out on the small bed, one arm laying behind his head and his other hand resting low on his stomach, not quite touching his already semi-hardness. After letting his eyes feast for a moment, Bucky smirked and made his way to the bed.

He slowly climbed over Steve and crawled his way up until he was sitting on his hips. Then he leaned back and started tying up his hair into a messy knot as he replied, "What I wanna do is take care of you, Steve."

Steve slid both hands up and over Bucky's legs, smoothing over his thighs, watching Bucky's muscles roll and stretch with his movements as he replied, "Yeah? What d'you have in mind?"

Bucky grinned, hair back now save for a few messy face-framing pieces. "Why don't you turn over and find out?"

Never one to back down from a challenge, Steve responded with a little smirk before easily rolling over beneath him. He hugged the pillow under his head to get comfortable and glanced back as Bucky reached over to the tiny little stand next to his bed.

"You've been so tense since you got here," Bucky said quietly, voice the tone of velvet. "Even after we fucked earlier. Wanna get you relaxed and loose for me..."

Steve would have raised an eyebrow at Bucky's choice of words had he not been distracted by a warm drizzle of what he soon realized was massage oil across his broad shoulders. Two hands, one warm and soft and the other cool and hard, rubbed it gently into his skin as Bucky shifted into a more comfortable position over his hips. Then he started massaging Steve's tight muscles, gentle but firm, and Steve couldn't help but close his eyes and groan into his pillow.

"Feel good?" Bucky grinned, carefully working out each knot that he found. Steve merely groaned again and sunk further into the sheets, and Bucky was quite pleased with himself as he kept on.

Bucky was thorough in his efforts, leaving no part of his back untouched and paying attention to his arms too, even rubbing his thumbs into Steve's palms. It was oddly incredible, Steve thought, soaking each and every touch up until he was a boneless pile of relaxation just as Bucky had wanted. Even the cool, unyielding touch of the vibranium felt like heaven.

"When the hell did you get so good at that?" Steve asked, eyes closed and half asleep as Bucky leaned down and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. " _Fuck_."

"Still with me, or do you need a nap?" Bucky asked teasingly, kissing up to the back of Steve's neck as his hardness rubbed against Steve's ass. "'Cause I'm only getting started." Then he bit down sharply before soothing over the spot with his tongue, and Steve jolted with a moan.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm awake," he grinned, trying to look at Bucky over his shoulder. Bucky grinned back and leaned in just long to steal one single kiss that didn't last nearly long enough, and then he was slowly trailing his lips down Steve's spine and peeking up as Steve continued to watch.

Steve laid his head back down once Bucky's lips had reached his lower back, flesh and metal hands reaching up to cup his ass and gently knead it. Bucky pulled away just far enough to admire and watch his hands play and touch, licking his lips before murmuring, "Gotta admit... I've always loved this cute little ass."

Steve opened his mouth to retort but fell silent when Bucky's thumbs softly pulled his cheeks apart, leaving him feeling suddenly _very_ exposed. He felt his face grow hot and pressed it further into the pillow, listening as Bucky added casually, "And I might have gotten off a few times thinking about getting my cock inside of it."

Groaning softly at those words, Steve was on the verge of asking for elaboration when Bucky rendered him speechless with a sharp little slap to his ass with his right hand. Steve gasped and reeled, whipping his head around and looking at Bucky in surprise and more heat than even Bucky had expected.

"You like that?" Bucky asked with a grin before delivering another slap, sending Steve's head back down to the pillow and another moan flying from his lips. Bucky bit his lip and murmured, "I'll take that as a yes. Wonder what else you might like..."

Steve was once again cut off from answering by Bucky gripping his hips and yanking him up to his knees, chest still flat on the bed and hands gripping the sheets as he was pulled away from the pillow. It was a vulnerable position and Steve felt even more exposed now but then there was Bucky's lips kissing up his back and his right hand on Steve's cock, stroking slow and lazy as Steve groaned into mattress. " _God, Buck._.."

Bucky's metal hand slid up Steve's spine to the back of his neck, closing around it in a gentle hold without pressure. It took Steve's breath away in the best way, made him feel as powerless as it did safe. He couldn't make sense of it but he didn't need to - this was Bucky, and that was all he needed. _He_ was all he needed.

But that didn't mean Steve was suddenly a docile, submissive creature. On the contrary, he was running out of patience thanks to Bucky's leisurely pace and the soft kisses he was peppering all over his skin.

"You gonna fuck me or what, Buck?"

At that, Bucky went still. Then he chuckled and slowly pulled away, metal hand drifting back down Steve's spine as he replied, "That's the plan. Gotta take my time, though. You're gonna be so fuckin' tight..."

"So open me up," Steve demanded, tossing Bucky a heated look. He was nervous but he needed this, needed more, and he needed it _now_.

Bucky responded by spanking him hard twice in a row, grinning at the way Steve moaned and pushed himself towards the impact rather than away from it. "Jesus, Steve," Bucky intoned as he smoothed his palms over the quickly reddening flesh, admiring how pretty his ass looked like that, pushing and pulling his cheeks apart again. "You that eager to get fucked?"

"You gonna tease me all night?" Steve shot back. "Cause I can just do it myself if -"

Steve's words died on a gasp that flew from his mouth, his body freezing and brain blanking as he felt... _what had he just felt?_ He whipped his head around again and promptly blushed harder than he ever had before in his entire life upon realizing that what he'd felt was Bucky's _tongue_.

Bucky simply smirked at him. "Lemme try this. Stop me if you don't like it." Then he lowered his head back down and Steve watched him take another taste, his own mouth falling open and a sound escaping his throat that he'd never heard from himself before.

" _Fuck_ ," Steve gasped as he let his head fall forward again, unable to keep it up any longer under the onslaught of foreign sensations. It was a lot considering he'd never really played there before, and at first all he could do was grip the sheets tight and shudder and gasp as Bucky experimented with different strokes, motions and pressures. But once he got through that initial shock and relaxed into it, letting himself feel what Bucky was doing and not fighting it, that strangeness became a very new and curious form of pleasure that he found himself chasing.

Cheek pressed to the mattress, eyes closed and lips parted, strands of stray blonde hair falling into his eyes, Steve made quite the sight as he moaned softly at the mercy of Bucky's mouth. He was pulsing, throbbing, needing more and not getting it, pushing back to get more and his ass getting a hard, deliciously painful squeeze from a metal hand in response.

Steve started babbling, not even realizing it until his own voice hit his ears. "Bucky, _fucking_ \- dammit, I'm -"

Bucky pulled away with a groan, spanking him again and growling, "You're so fuckin' impatient, Steve. Here I am trying to take my time and you're just fuckin' ready to go, aren't you? So bossy even when I've got you all spread out like this."

Steve looked over his shoulder again as Bucky rose up on his knees behind him. "Well maybe if you'd put your money where your mouth is -"

Bucky cut him off with an incredulous smirk. "Steve, we both know where my mouth just was and you sure fuckin' seemed to like it."

Then Bucky yet again took Steve by surprise by sliding two slick fingers over his only slightly loosened entrance, taking his breath away and making him curse into the mattress. Steve hadn't even seen or noticed him grabbing the lube, clearly too far gone already to notice such details, and the way that Bucky chuckled at him made him want to both deck him and beg for more.

"You just wait, Steve," Bucky murmured, draping himself over Steve's body as his fingers played around to relax him, get him used to the touch. He kissed the back of his shoulder and added, "It's gonna hurt a little at first but then _fuck_ you're gonna feel so damn good it'll make you cry."

"You gonna do it or you gonna keep talkin'?" Steve asked breathlessly, knowing he was asking for it at this point but... ah, to hell with it.

Bucky, without missing a beat, slid one finger inside of him and hummed nonchalantly, "I don't know, Steve, you tell me."

Steve reeled from the sudden penetration, gasping and shaking and struggling under the unexpectedly deep touch. Bucky's tongue had paved the way, however, and he knew that this initial burn was unavoidable. But he'd had far worse in the past and damn he wanted to know what it was like to have more, to experience for himself what made Bucky so blissed out and out of his mind with pleasure.

"I know, I know," Bucky told him soothingly, kissing across his upper back and nuzzling the back of his neck. "Just try to relax. This part doesn't last long, I promise. Breathe for me, Steve."

And Steve did, just as he had ages ago when his asthma would wreak its havoc and Bucky would calm him down one breath at a time. He breathed in and out and slowly adjusted to the feeling, Bucky's finger working as slow and easy as he needed. Once he was relaxed and not fighting it anymore, resistance almost completely gone, Bucky started whispering words of praise into his skin and going deeper, and Steve let out a soft moan of pleasure for the first time.

"There you go," Bucky grinned, biting at him and soothing the nip with his tongue. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

Steve started rocking back to meet each thrust of Bucky's hand, pushing up on his hands to get better leverage. Once he was fully comfortable and the ache was gone, he groaned and demanded, "More, Buck, give me more."

Bucky answered not with words but with a second finger, starting the adjustment process all over again. But this time Steve was better prepared for it and relaxed into it earlier, accommodating the added girth and enjoying it much more now, especially with the way that Bucky kissed and praised him through it.

"You're so fuckin' tight, Steve, _damn_ ," Bucky marveled. "Gonna strangle my cock, aren't you?"

Head hanging low and body trembling around the sensations sparking through it, Steve moaned and replied breathlessly, "More, _fuck_ , I need more -"

"I'm gonna give you so much more," Bucky groaned as he curled his fingers once, twice, and then Steve shouted and stumbled off of his hands and knees as he quaked in pleasure. Bucky smiled like he'd just hit the damn jackpot because he _had_. " _There it is_."

Then he did it again, and again, and again, showing Steve no mercy and leaving him gripping the sheets and writhing in pleasure that he'd never known before. It was like nothing else he'd ever felt and it was amazing, beyond his ability to even comprehend in those frantic, unbelievable moments. Bucky slipped in a third finger as Steve was all but sobbing into the mattress and fucking himself back on his fingers, the slight pain of it only heightening the pleasure and making him feel like he was splitting apart at the seams.

No wonder Bucky loved this so much.

Bucky's metal hand slid around to grip the top of Steve's hair as he quickened his rhythm, Steve rolling back to match it and rubbing his cock against the mattress in the process. He was moaning louder and less coherently than he ever had before, out of his mind as Bucky made sure to hit that spot every single time, and he could feel his orgasm building higher and higher with each thrust.

"Go on Steve," Bucky murmured as he sucked a deep mark into his neck, sounding breathless and dazed himself. "Come for me. I can feel how bad you need it."

Two more thrusts of Bucky's hand and Steve was seeing stars, making a mess on himself and the bed as he came so hard he almost blacked out for a moment. Whatever he had been expecting or hoping for... this had dramatically surpassed it. And he'd only had Bucky's _fingers_ so far.

Bucky took care of him in the aftermath, gently removing his fingers and carefully rolling him to his back. Steve was little more than a large lump of useless and boneless limbs, eyes shut until he felt a warm and familiar tongue licking up the mess on his stomach. He looked down and watched as Bucky cleaned him up, Steve still half-hard and more than a little sore but he didn't care and he certainly wasn't done yet.

Then Bucky grinned as he made his way to Steve's lips, kissing him shamelessly deeply and it felt filthy but Steve loved it. He cupped Bucky's face with both hands and they got lost in it, Bucky grinding himself against Steve's hip and groaning at the friction, his own needs having been ignored for so long.

"So," Bucky grinned after the kiss broke, Steve gently pulling his hair free from its bun so that it hung loose around his shoulders. "What do you think?"

"I think..." Steve grinned and then flipped them over, Bucky's back hitting the mattress and Steve straddling his hips, "that I'm gonna like this."

"Think I am too," Bucky smiled back, blindly reaching for the lube in the sheets as Steve leaned down to kiss him some more. It took a bit but he finally found it, handing it over to Steve after they pulled away from their kiss panting.

Steve maintained eye contact with Bucky as he popped it open, reaching behind himself to slather Bucky in it. Bucky didn't lay idle, wrapping his right hand around Steve's cock to stroke him lazily while Steve did the same to him, and they managed to distract one another long enough that Steve eventually had to growl and push Bucky's hand away and ask, "We gonna do this or what?"

"Waitin' on you, beautiful," Bucky shot back, and the word choice threw Steve for a loop. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or to blush, and in the end he opted to smile crookedly and glance down before returning to the task at hand, lifting up and lining them up. He knew that this was gonna be a lot more to take than a few fingers but he was ready and he wanted more, wanted to give Bucky everything he could possibly want in a lover.

With that in mind, Steve began to slowly sink down and take Bucky in, and as prepared as he thought he was... he truly wasn't. His mouth dropped open and it was hard to breathe again, eyes shut and brows furrowed and body straining as it stretched to accommodate the considerable intrusion. Bucky made it look so easy, he thought as sweat formed on his brow.

"Easy, Steve," Bucky murmured, hands running up and down Steve's back and sides to soothe him, gaze almost reverent as he watched. "Just keep breathing. You feel fuckin' amazing."

"You feel... big," Steve admitted with a breathless chuckle, sliding down another inch. " _Fuck_..."

Bucky bit his lip and forced himself to remain completely still, no small feat as Steve's warmth engulfed him more and more deeply with each passing second. "There you go, just a little bit more..."

Steve let out the breath he'd been holding for far too long when he was finally fully seated, filled to the brim and breathing hard as he let both hands fall to Bucky's chest and his head hang as he breathed deep and heavy. When he'd nearly caught his breath, Bucky gently pulled him down for a kiss that they both melted into as Steve stayed motionless otherwise, relaxing and adjusting to having another man inside of him.

It was an intimate moment that was made all the sweeter by how tightly Steve clung to Bucky and how attentive Bucky was, kissing and caressing him all over in an impeccable display of patience. Eventually they were forehead to forehead, breathing into the negligible space between them when Steve gave the first tiny, careful roll of his hips. Bucky's breath hitched and Steve did it again, a little deeper this time as the feeling grew less foreign, and slowly but surely he worked himself up and down until he'd created a real, if still careful and slow, rhythm.

And _God_ it was truly something else. Being filled like that and watching Bucky be overcome by pleasure as he laid beneath him, hair spread out on the pillows and kiss-swollen lips the prettiest shade of red Steve had ever seen... why hadn't they done this before?

As Steve's last twinges of discomfort faded, he pulled away and sat up straighter, rocking back and forth and trying out a few angles until he found one that hit him just right and made his head fall back as a long, deep moan left his mouth. That same mind-bending burst of pleasure he'd felt with Bucky's fingers came back with each thrust and it spurred him on, moving faster and truly riding Bucky now.

And Steve wasn't the only one in bliss. Bucky's hands were all over Steve as they moved together, on his legs and his thighs and his waist and chest, eyes glued to his sweat-slick form and rolling muscles, the furrow of his brow and the way that his blonde hair fell into his face. He truly was gorgeous, Bucky thought as he watched Steve's hand slip down to grip himself, only to get snatched and yanked away by a cool metal fist.

Steve's eyes flew open and he fell still, and before he knew it Bucky had them flipped over. Suddenly Steve was on his back and underneath Bucky's grinning face, their eyes locked as Bucky purred, "I don't think so, Steve. My cock's makin' you come, nothing else." He punctuated his words with a sharp, deep thrust that sent Steve's head flying back, crying out in sheer pleasure as Bucky took the reins and started having his way with him. "God you really are fuckin' beautiful, Steve," Bucky marveled as he watched Steve fully give himself over, letting Bucky fuck him just the way that he craved.

One hand clinging to Bucky's back and the other clutching his long, messy hair, Steve moaned loudly and mindlessly as Bucky drove into him relentlessly. There were no words spoken between them, just breathless noises and groans, the sound of skin on skin and sloppy kisses filling the warm air around them, and later Steve would wonder if he'd ever felt as free as he did in those incredible moments.

When it all began to come to a head, Bucky pressed his forehead to Steve's, his hair falling in curtains around them as they kissed frantically and teetered on the edge together. Then Bucky gasped, " _God_ Steve, I'm gonna -"

"Do it," Steve groaned, reaching up with one hand and brushing his hair back, holding it there so he could look into his eyes. "Come inside me, Buck, I want it."

Bucky growled at those words and hung on just long enough for Steve to let go first, coming untouched for the second time that night and spilling between them with a silent cry, all gasps and back arched and face a beautiful picture of ecstasy. Bucky followed right behind him, the sight of Steve like that pushing him over until he was spent, the two of them clinging to one another through every last aftershock and moving together until it was over and they were deep in the afterglow.

Steve enjoyed having the weight of Bucky on top of him, his body warm and loose and stretched out above him, and Steve was tempted to simply fall asleep like that, using Bucky as a blanket. But Bucky moved before Steve could nod off, lifting up his head from Steve's neck and carefully sliding out of him with a sigh before flopping over, taking Steve with him so that they laid side by side and face to face, limbs entangled and holding one another.

Steve leaned in and kissed Bucky softly, smiling as he pulled away and muttered, " _Wow_."

Bucky grinned and let out a breathless laugh. "All of that and you say _wow_."

Steve laughed back, shaking his head. "Honestly... I don't think there's any words that can really do justice to what I'm thinking."

"Try your best," Bucky grinned back. "Can't be worse than _wow_."

Smile stuck to his face, Steve took a moment and enjoyed the view as he mulled it over. He ran his fingers through Bucky's hair, tucking the strands behind his ear and rubbing his thumb along Bucky's jawline, wondering what could possibly express what he was feeling.

He felt like his burden had been lifted from his shoulders. It would be back in time, he knew, but for the night at least he felt _free_. He and Bucky had shared a day he'd never forget, from the festival to their dance and then... some of the most mind blowing pleasure Steve had ever known.

They'd just had their first real date, he realized, and he hadn't even known it until that moment. Bucky had taken him out on the town, given him his first dance under the stars, then brought him back home to make love to him. He couldn't imagine anyone possibly knowing him any better, anyone else alive having the ability to pinpoint what it was he needed and provide it so seemingly effortlessly. It was second nature - _they_ were second nature - and he realized there were was only a handful of words that could possibly be worthy of this tender, quiet moment between them.

He smiled softly and looked Bucky in the eyes, his voice a deep but quiet near-whisper as he told him, "I love you." Bucky blinked in surprise, but it only lasted for a beat and then he was smiling wide. Steve added quickly but lightly, "Not that you don't already know that, and haven't always known that. S'like saying the sky's blue at this point, but... yeah."

Bucky licked his lips and lazily ran his metal fingers along Steve's spine, his expression the very picture of peace and contentment. "Well... that's a hell of a lot better than _wow_."

Steve rolled his eyes and scoffed. "You know what, Buck..."

"Shut up," Bucky grinned, moving closer and leaning in for another kiss. Just before their lips touched he breathed, "Love you too, punk." Then they kissed, and nothing could have possibly made the moment any sweeter.

Eventually they would drag themselves out of bed to clean themselves up and get ready for bed, Bucky teasing Steve about how sore he was and how much more he'd feel it in the morning, the two men carrying on as they ever had until sleep called their names. That night Steve slept in Bucky's arms, using him like a body pillow with his head on Bucky's chest, curled around him and sleeping soundly, saving his worries and his troubles for another day.

He could deal with all of that, he decided, so long as he always got to come home to Bucky in the end.


End file.
